


Curses

by Batagur



Series: The Losers [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, M/M, Quantum Mirror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-31
Updated: 2007-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:04:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batagur/pseuds/Batagur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack O'Neill and his team of Ori insurrectionist discover that a sarcophagus can be a blessing or a curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this story take place prior to the events described in The Losers
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and/or the whole 'Stargate Universe,' and I certainly am not doing this for profit.
> 
> Warnings and Notes: Imperfect spoilers for all seasons up to but not including season nine
> 
> Beta'd by the ever patient and talented amazonx
> 
> Yes, there was a heavy Firefly influence in this story. You may even recognize stolen aspects from Joss Whedon's series in this story. Disclaimer time for that: Don't own them, not trying to pass them off as my very own invention, and I certainly make no profit from their usage.

~***~  
Pretty.

Dark, passionate eyes, a gently smiling mouth, and dimples. Oh, pretty, pretty dimples, soft brown hair and proud cleft chin. Daniel put down the picture of Lt Jonathan O'Neill that he had found floating about in the back of their closet. The picture had quickly become his favorite bookmark, but it was so distracting at times.

Daniel put his small green book of Greek tragedies away. There were better ways to pass the time until they arrived on PX1-056.

There were no more Goa'uld; at least there were none that would come up from going to ground. Daniel suspected some of them survived. Not all of them were so blinded by their own arrogance that they thought they could not possibly lose. Daniel smiled as sanity slipped away briefly. It was sweetness, like nectar, the taste of open oblivion. He never let Jack know that he slipped away from time to time, his head lolling to the side and his mind stuck on a simple tune that Sha're used to hum while scrubbing their meager wash. It was easy here, inside his mind where he didn't have to understand how horribly he had failed. Oma Desala was a liar. Ascension was purgatory. It was worthless in the form the ancients chose. It had been a hell for him. Everything he desired was forever out of reach.

There was no truth of self other than life was what you made of it. His return had been a salvation, but, even then, he continued to fail, like the flawed piece of meat that he was.

"Daniel," Jack called irritably.

Daniel snapped back to the reality of their small room, letting his eye focus and gain alertness and intelligence again. There would be hell to pay if Jack saw him retreating. He wasn't allowed to melt away. He belonged to Jack. Folding his hands in his lap, Daniel stared intently at the open doorway of the room, waiting for Jack to appear before him and scowl in person.

Jack swung around the entry by one arm, stomping to a stop just inside. As predicted, Jack scowled straight down at Daniel, who managed to keep his face as bland as possible.

"You mistranslated the last intel…"

"No, Jack I…."

"You'd think it would be kinda important to get a *whole* message; 'specially since it's about possible weapons caches?"

"I didn't think that…."

"Nope. I'll agree with you there. You certainly were not thinking. "

"Jack!" Daniel sighed frustrated. It was obvious that this was a one sided dress-down, not that Daniel ever allowed Jack to dress him down in the past. Sometimes, especially these days, he was just too tired to argue.

Jack shook a piece of brown paper before Daniel's nose. "This is important."

"It's an old Goa'uld pleasure palace," Daniel said blandly as he snatched the paper from Jack's hand before he could stir more dust with it and trigger Daniel's allergies. Why did dust mites follow man into space anyway? "It was probably picked clean years ago."

"We don't know that," Jack argued.

Daniel sighed and barely avoided an eye roll. He looked down at the sheet. The code the resistance adopted was a complex amalgamation of languages that only a select few in the whole resistance could read completely. It had been developed by Daniel and Jonas, and in all seriousness, it was quite brilliant in the way that it boiled several languages down to their essential consonant and vowel sounds and then re-stylizing within another language. Finally, the whole of it was given man'yōgana-style characters to make the writing faster. Each character represented a phonetic value.

"Okay," Daniel amended his tone in the hopes of not escalating the argument. As he looked over the sheet, he had to wonder, just how had Jack known that the message had gone through a filter anyhow? He looked up at Jack briefly, searchingly, while Jack stared down at him with a closed off, angry look that Daniel hated but understood. Jack had to push his feelings down sometimes to maintain a strict level of discipline on the ship. He did this so much more ruthlessly than he had in the past when he had just been the leader of SG1 and Daniel, Sam, and Teal'c had been the people he claimed responsibility for. Jack walked a very fine line.

"Okay," Daniel said again. "I didn't think we needed to check out the palace, but if you say we do, then we do." It was that simple. In the past, if he had known he was right, Daniel would have pushed back, and pushed back hard. These days, he was not so certain. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was that feeling that the tether to reality could break at any second that kept him from that 'Daniel-Jackson-firm-conviction' of the past. But he was very sure of one thing, all the same. A sarcophagus would do no one any good.

~*~

"What in the hell will we do with a sarcophagus?" Mitchell looked down at the sheet between his hands on the galley common table.

"We could strip it for parts," Sam interjected. There was the old, familiar sparkle in her eye that she only got when she was faced with a new challenge. Daniel imagined that Sam wanted nothing better than to strip a sarcophagus and see what made it tick. "We could extract the main crystals and do a re-build, reducing the output and therefore, decreasing the chance of immediate dependency…"

"You're suggesting trying to use the thing," Jack turned his head to give her a stern, considering look.

"Sir, it is a useful tool for healing," Carter began carefully, but Jack cut her off.

"With a hellava price tag, Carter. I'd rather use the thing to torture and enemy, than to cure a friend."

Sam frowned and Daniel winced. He had remembered, just a little, of the time of Jack's first encounter with the system lord Ba'al. He had also read the report later, after his return. Ba'al had, indeed, used a sarcophagus to torture Jack. But even as Jack said what he did, Daniel could feel something. Sometimes, when he let his mind be quiet for a moment, when he let it be still and feel the frayed tether that held him to lucidity, he could feel Jack. Jack was like a raw edge in his mind that he tried to touch carefully. He was an exposed nerve that if touched wrong elicited a shock of sharp, biting pain.

Daniel felt Jack now, and he knew that Jack would never torture another sentient being the way Ba'al had tortured him. It wasn't because Jack was too humane for such an exercise. It was mostly a matter of self-preservation. Jack was certain that he would not want to endure watching such brutal, hopeless agony go on to infinity. He would have to finish it.

"Sir," Sam was in persuasive arguing mode now. "Morphine is a powerful drug that carries the same sort of risk of dependency, but with careful, monitored use, it can be used successfully for short periods."

"This isn't a painkiller, Carter." Jack's frown deepened. He didn't say it; so Daniel said it for him.

"It's a soul killer."

There was a protracted silence after that, and Daniel looked about the room. Sam gave a short snort of a sigh, her shoulders square and tight. That was her exasperated look. She was certain she was right, but she knew she was up against the rest of the bone-heads she traveled with. In the past, Daniel had felt great sympathy for her position, the genius subordinate to men with mere courage and horse-sense to carry them up the ranks. He had commiserated with her in this. It was hard to look into the eyes of the superior telling you "no" when you knew that he had no fucking clue about what you do or could do that would benefit them all. It felt like they were missing the big picture, at times. Now Daniel knew, Jack saw the big picture. He just didn't like what he saw.

Daniel had no idea how to frame those few memories of being ascended into context with his normal life and the dreams that cursed him. He had always been a surreal dreamer, and he imagined that being ascended had a surreal quality to it as well. When life stops being waking and sleeping and perception stops being experiences of a collection of objects in space and motion, and become symbols of reality, that was ascendancy, and that was very much like dreams, or perhaps insanity.

Jack had also told him very briefly about the visit in Ba'al's cell. He had told Daniel about throwing a shoe through him and how that had made him feel. He told Daniel about how he had tried to help him ascend to save his soul from the stripping. This had been, of course, long before Jack and he had become lovers. Daniel had to wonder how Jack had missed the clear signal that Daniel's ascended self had been sending. Nothing says "I love you" like trying to get that one special person to join you on a higher plane of existence for all eternity.

A few nights after that exceedingly short, somewhat uncomfortable and yet intense conversation, Daniel had had a dream. Dreams were always sharp and clear for him, but the undeniably surreal aspects of them made them nebulous at the same time. In this dream, Daniel had stood at the edge of a cliff of pale red clay that almost glowed in a hot desert sun. He had been naked; his arms flung wide, his chest out, and his toes against the edge. He had stood alone, feeling the wind against him, cool in the shimmering haze of midday. Not a cloud in the sky, and the vista beyond spanned for mile upon endless mile of barren landscape. There had been nothing but earth and sky spanning to a hazy horizon that seemed lifetimes away. He had been naked, except for the strange silken sheet that circled his body, endlessly fluttering in the wind, but not flying away. It never touched his skin. In fact, it curved and shimmered before him, about a foot out from him. It was pure white, almost blinding white in the bright sunshine, but Daniel could see words inscribed or embroidered in with silver thread. Daniel could only glimpse a word here, or a phrase there as it fluttered and snapped in the persistent wind. However, Daniel knew what it was. It was every word, every conversation, every argument, every apology, every wish and every confession he had ever shared with Jack O'Neill. The sheet fluttered on, back behind him. It spanned backwards for miles. Daniel didn't need to see the other end to know that Jack would be there. Even apart, they would always remain connected. Standing on a cliff, at the edge of life and death, was that what being ascended had been like?

"So, do we go get it?" Vala asked. The look in her eyes was plain to Daniel. She thought all this talk was unnecessary and that they should just get the damn thing and worry about the implications later.

Jack gave her a blank look for three long seconds; then he said, "I don't see why not."

Daniel's head hit the table top with a loud thump.  
~*~

Teal'c held the controls of the ship in his large, capable hands, looking placidly at the vast sea of black before him. Daniel Jackson sat next to him in the copilot seat, his long, bare, white feet up on the cushion and his head resting on his knees.

"I can understand your concern, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c said. "But certainly O'Neill understands the dangers of a sarcophagus, as was demonstrated by his protest to Samantha against its use for the wounded and infirmed."

"They are cursed," Daniel muttered into his knees. Teal'c looked over at him in mild concern.

"When I was a kid, back with my parents, we use to laugh about mummy curses and hexes placed over the resting places of the ancient pharaohs. They told me that all that stuff was just bad luck, coincidence and three thousand plus year old air. I believed them, even after the accident. Then I grew up, stepped through the stargate, and saw a *real* sarcophagus. They are cursed. They are evil and they are cursed."

Daniel turned his head and looked at Teal'c, his large eyes blinking behind the control board refection on his glasses. "If we get that thing, we'll be cursed, too."

"That is why you omitted the sarcophagus from your report," Teal'c said in a manor that suggested he understood. Nevertheless he was worried for Daniel Jackson. Sometimes he did not seem as lucid as he should be. Teal'c was not sure if it was that Daniel Jackson still teetered on the edge of sanity, or if they all did. Some of the things he said made no sense right away. Always later, they came back to haunt them all as truths.

"If we get that thing, Teal'c… "Daniel shuddered hard and then buried his face back in his knees and wrapped his arms tight about himself.

Teal'c frowned as he watched Daniel react. His fear was visceral and very conspicuous. Teal'c remembered how damaged Daniel Jackson had been by his own sarcophagus addiction, but Teal'c had thought that he had long since put that behind him.

"We will use caution," Teal'c reassured him.

The aft door to the bridge opened smoothly and Teal'c turned to see General O'Neill standing beyond in the cool violet light of the main corridor. He came in slowly, looking first at Teal'c and then to Daniel Jackson. He stood behind the younger man's seat, placing his hands on his shoulders.

"I was looking for you."

"I'm right here," Daniel answered, looking up at O'Neill.

"I can see that," O'Neill replied giving Daniel Jackson's shoulders a firm squeeze. He then looked to Teal'c.

"Do you and Carter think you can get the repairs squared away in, say, forty-five minutes? I'd like to get this bird heading out to our next stop as soon as possible."

Teal'c regarded O'Neill carefully. He wasn't in a hurry to retrieve the sarcophagus. He was in a hurry to assuage Daniel Jackson's anxiety over their next, chosen mission.

"It is possible," Teal'c responded. "It will depend on whether the part that Ontar and Paul Davis were able to procure for us will be suitable."

"Damn," Jack cursed without heat.

Teal'c knew that O'Neill had a lingering distrust of the Tok'ra. When Ontar joined with Paul Davis after the battle for the Alpha Site, O'Neill had not been pleased, but he had accepted that the blending had saved both individuals' lives. A live Tok'ra ally was far better than two dead beings.

"What is our ETA, anyway?"

"We should achieve planet-fall at PX1-056, in approximately three hours," Teal'c responded.

O'Neill nodded satisfied. He then turned his attention back to Daniel Jackson, whose shoulders he had been absently kneading throughout the entire conversation.

"Gonna need you to focus, Daniel." O'Neill's voice was softer, gentler with Daniel Jackson than with other members of his team. Teal'c had long since noticed that O'Neill always took a different tone with Daniel Jackson, even before. Perhaps it wasn't as tender, but it was certainly different, even when it seemed to everyone else that it wasn't.

"Can't get through those ruins without you," O'Neill continued.

Daniel Jackson said nothing but continued to bite in a nervous fashion at his thumb. Teal'c was acquainted with this habit of Daniel's. It usually did not bode well as to the state of the younger man's mind.

Daniel Jackson sighed and uncurled himself from the seat, slipping free from O'Neill's grasp smoothly. He stood up to face the other man.

Teal'c watched as Daniel Jackson faced O'Neill, his arms wrapped about himself in that ever familiar posture of self-defense. Daniel Jackson was preparing himself for a verbal fight. Teal'c turned his eyes forward and prepared his ears for the fight as well.

"You are asking a lot this time, Jack."

"No more than usual." Jack's voice was still calm and soft. Teal'c knew that O'Neill would tread carefully about Daniel Jackson for as long as he thought necessary; then it would boil down to bellowed orders.

"You know what that thing is, and no good will come of it…"

"It's technology, Daniel. Stuff we don't have a lot of," O'Neill interrupted, his voice gaining an irritated edge. "In case you'd forgotten, we are on the underdog side here. We barely have a pot to piss in."

There was a pause in which Teal'c actually heard Daniel Jackson shift restlessly and then settle with a short sigh.

"We need everything we can get our hands on," O'Neill continued. "Look, Carter and the others at In'takra will strip it like a brand new Chevy. Once they are done doing that backwards engineering thing, it won't even be a sarcophagus any more."

"It'll always be a sarcophagus," Daniel breathed out. "Every inch, every piece…"

"Why are you being like this?"

"We don't need it. It's evil. It's the thing that made the Goa'uld the monsters that they were."

"Daniel…"

"Soulless creatures, living for extreme pleasure because they couldn't feel any thing any more…"

"Daniel, stop!"

"They see everything like plastic toys: stars, worlds, people. Fucking meat to be chewed up and swallowed. Consume it all. It doesn't matter."

"Daniel!" O'Neill roared. Teal'c turned in time to see him grab the other man by the shoulders and give him one hard shake.

For a moment, only for a moment, Teal'c thought the wild-eyed look in Daniel Jackson's eyes would remain, that he had finally lost the long battle with madness. It would not have surprised Teal'c. Daniel Jackson had been so strong for so long after such great losses that would have driven lesser men far beyond the brink.

But as the man looked in O'Neill's eyes, something came clear with in his demeanor. His head hung only for a moment, and then he looked back up into O'Neill's eyes.

"I'll do what you need me to do," Daniel Jackson reassured softly.

"I appreciate that, Daniel. Really, I do," O'Neill replied.

Daniel Jackson nodded, pulling himself carefully from O'Neill's grasp. He left the bridge. O'Neill watched the younger man leave, his right hand reaching up to absently rub his own left shoulder. He then turned back to Teal'c, settling himself in the copilot's chair that Daniel had abandoned. He still rubbed his shoulder.

"Is there something wrong, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked.

O'Neill snorted. "Is there something right?" he countered snappishly. "Fucking junk heap is falling apart. Daniel's coming unglued over a scavenger hunt for a stupid sarcophagus, and now my damn arm is giving me grief."

"Is it your arthritis?" Teal'c asked.

O'Neill blinked at him as he thought about his reply. "It's never affected my arms before, just my knees, and lately my hips. It doesn't feel like that. Feels like I slept on it wrong."

Teal'c nodded.

After a long moment, Teal'c looked over at O'Neill, noting the sour, drained expression and the slumping posture.

"Perhaps you should rest, O'Neill" Teal'c suggested. "Mitchell and I can expedite the salvage mission with Vala and Daniel Jackson."

"Naw, thanks anyhow, T," Jack said. He offered Teal'c a slow smile. "Some one has to keep a leash on Daniel. Far as I can tell, I'm the only one he heels for."

Teal'c raised a curious eyebrow at O'Neill's analogy.

O'Neill shrugged. "Wouldn't want him freaking out on you or Mitchell… not when I can keep a handle on it."

Teal'c considered this. It was true that as of late, Daniel was more likely to respond to O'Neill's force of personality than to anyone else he had ever called his friend. It seems the psychotic break he had experienced after the salvage mission to earth had driven him to withdraw as much as possible. Jack wouldn't let him withdraw all the way. But even O'Neill's intervention had come with a price. Daniel was still very closed off in many ways that he had not been in the past.

"Perhaps it would be better to exclude Daniel Jackson from the mission," Teal'c suggested. "I am, after all, fluent in Goa'uld."

"Yeah, but Daniel knows how to puzzle the cryptic shit out of a translation. If it was a straight translation, then hell yeah, T, you're the man, but…. Shit. You know how it goes. It's never straight forward. There's always a twist… a trap somewhere."

Teal'c nodded.

"You're right, Teal'c." O'Neill lifted himself slowly from the chair. "I think I'll catch a nap before the shindig. Call me if anything changes."

"Acknowledged, O'Neill," Teal'c replied dutifully.  
****

He didn't expect Daniel to be back in their room. When Daniel got weird, he roamed the ship. Jack would find him in the oddest places sometimes: the cargo-lift access cat walks in the cargo bay, the small lounge area before the infirmary, and the dry goods pantries off of the galley. Daniel said he liked those places. They were quiet places where he could think. He would tell Jack that he missed having an office, although Jack couldn't fathom how Daniel could equate his office with peace and quite. Normally, before Jack took the promotion that took him out of Cheyenne Mountain, Jack would invade Daniel's office, put his feet on the desk and meddle with all Daniel's crazy artifact doohickeys and be a general pest (pun intended). Jack took the explanation at face value. Anything else would mean that Daniel was hiding, and that was a damn disturbing concept for Jack.

Sitting on the bed, Jack noticed one of Daniel's books was still laying on top of the blankets. Jack sighed and picked up the small green book: Aeschylus. Damn it! Daniel had been reading Greek tragedies again.

"Oh for cryin' out loud, Daniel," Jack muttered as he tossed the book at the small desk in the corner of their room. It tumbled to a stop, flopping open briefly to partially release its book mark. Jack sighed again. He may have been annoyed, but he didn't want to be a total jerk by loosing Daniel's place in his book.

Jack pushed himself up from his seat and took the three steps necessary to get him to the desk. Looking down, he was mildly surprised by the bookmark. Mostly, he was intrigued. He picked up the book, carefully placing a finger between the pages the bookmark separated. Jack pulled the picture free to look at it closely. It was lighter than it use to be, and there was water damage to one side. It looked like someone set a soda down on it.

"Been a hell of a long time since I was you," he said to the faded photo.

He remembered being that young officer. He was fresh out of flight school in the academy. He was on the top ten of his class in Military Strategic Studies and the top twenty in the major of Geospatial Science. He was on his way to attended Squadron Officer School, Air Command and Staff College, and the Air War College at Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama. He had also been on his way to meeting the girl of his dreams, the one he would ask to marry him and bear his child.

That was all the way back on a world that had been green and pure so long ago, and the petty squabbles about land, wealth and religion were paltry in comparison to the fate that awaited them all from beyond the stars.

Jack slipped the picture back between the pages, a little sad that Daniel had found it and was using it as a bookmark. He had to wonder why he felt that way. Jack didn't like feeling mostly anything. It made it easier to get jobs done. However, he was not so stupid that he would deny himself the comfort of love. That was what he needed Daniel for the most.

The comfort of love. Jack walked back to the bed and kicked out of his shoes. He lay back, careful of his sore arm.

Some lover, he thought. Contrary, cerebral, self-absorbed in his own guilt to the point that he teetered on the edge of sanity, that was Daniel Jackson. That wasn't always Daniel Jackson. Well, the contrary and cerebral was always Daniel, but there had also been the idealistic Daniel Jackson, and the chivalrous Daniel Jackson and the altruistic Daniel Jackson, and let's not forget the abso-fucking-lutely determined Daniel Jackson. Those qualities were still there. It was just that the crazy-defeated Daniel Jackson seemed to keep them at bay.

It was wrong. It was all wrong, and there was little Jack could do to make it right again. Daniel had always been the strong one. Daniel had always been the one with the faith in their ability to succeed. He had always been the one who kept the hope alive. It was amazing to Jack that Daniel was able to do that for so long after so much had been taken from him. Jack guessed it had just been a matter of time when the well of hope ran dry.

And yet, there were times… Daniel was so lovely when they fucked. The way he would ride Jack sometimes, mounted on him like a cream-gold god of desire. Daniel's eyes would burn with the passion, and Jack could still see the seeds of hope. They were together. Together, they could do anything. Over throw the whole damned Ori armada and blow them the fuck out of their galaxy? Hell yeah!

Jack smiled to himself, realizing he had to curb his thoughts. He wanted to get some rest, not get hot and bothered remembering what a fabulous fuck Daniel could be when he put his mind to it.

Closing his eyes, he could just imagine the pain in his arm easing up just a bit. This was a good idea. He needed a nap.  
~*~

Daniel came back to their quarters only after he got a hold of his frustrated anger. He wanted Jack to believe him when he said that he was all right, but Daniel also knew what a lousy liar he was, especially where Jack was concerned. He had gone to the cargo hold hoist catwalk to clear his mind and to consider some interesting developments, like how did Jack know what Daniel had omitted from the message.

It was an interesting puzzle that Daniel just knew had something to do with his own state of mind. It was eerie, this feeling he could get sometimes. He could nurse it when he let his mind slip away for a little bit. It was eerie and a little familiar. It was like being able to know too much. Maybe it was like being ascended.

If that was true, lucidity was the cure to being ascended, or at least thinking like an ascended being. Perhaps it was not so much that he didn't remember that portion of his life. Perhaps he just didn't understand it. Perhaps in the very seeds of insanity lay the rest of his story, and that was a very interesting thought indeed. However, they had a job to do. He had a job to do. There was no time to explore the theory. It would remain in the abstract.

Daniel entered their room. Jack was laying on their bed, curled on his right side. His eyes were closed, but Daniel knew better than to assume Jack was asleep. Jack was a very light sleeper and could be instantly awake and alert if even the air in the room shifted. Jack wouldn't open his eyes unless he thought he needed to. Jack could threat assess with his eyes close.

The intercom next to the door buzzed to life with soft static. Teal'c's voice over it was its normal enigmatic rumble.

"We are approaching planet-fall. Prepare for re-entry."

Jack's eyes opened. "So much for napping."  
`  
Daniel moved slowly to the bed, looking down at Jack.

"Hey, snookums," Jack said flatly up at him. Always the sarcastic bastard, Daniel knew Jack was baiting him.

Daniel decided to do his own type of baiting. He sat down beside Jack, running his hand through Jack's hair. "Hey, baby cakes." He leaned down to kiss his lips softly. He could feel Jack's light grimace at the sappy endearment.

"You always have to one-up me," Jack complained after the kiss.

Daniel smiled slightly and shrugged. "That's just me, y' know."

"Can you be any more annoying, Daniel?"

"I can try…"

"Don't," Jack cautioned. He then sighed, lifting himself in a seated position. Daniel made room for him. They sat side by side for a long moment, neither man moving. Finally Daniel sighed and Jack rubbed his left arm.

"I love you, you know," Daniel said softly.

"I know," Jack replied. Jack lifted his hand, running the back of his fingers gently down Daniel's cheek and across his square jaw.

The ship shuddered and then began a steady vibration that thrummed deep with in the walls. They were entering atmosphere.

"You gonna be all right for this?" Jack frowned deeply as he looked searchingly in Daniel's eyes.

Daniel sighed again. There was no use in starting the argument once more. Jack was stubborn and once he had a course of action in his head, there was virtually no shaking it. Daniel nodded at Jack, looking him steadily in the eyes.

"Sweet," Jack whispered as he leaned in for another kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

The palace lay along a hillside and was built into it to give it three levels. Its main entrance lay partially up a mountain pass that had a flattened plateau, possibly a staging area for troops. It was just large enough for them to land Der Fliegende Holländer. The very top of the hill was fashioned into a pyramid, a landing place for a Goa'uld mother ship.

The air inside was not stale, and that alone was enough to set Daniel's teeth on edge. Then again, there could be dozens of reasons why the rambling labyrinth of decaying Goa'uld palace wasn't choked with musty air and three inch thick dust. And as Daniel had looked about, up and down the gray stone walls of the outside, noticing the thick scratches and the broken places where heavy ornamentation might have been, he had known that the place had already seen at least a cursory once over by scavengers. Nevertheless, he was glad that Jack had chosen to pass out side arms for this salvage mission. Daniel was even more delighted when Jack armed Teal'c, Cam and himself with P-90s. It would have been better if they all could have one, but Daniel knew that ammo was a commodity.

As cliché as it sounded, the place was too silent. The air was too fresh to be silent. Daniel expected a whistle, a hum, something. Perhaps he wasn't alone in his unease. Everyone seemed to rest a hand loosely on his or her sidearm.

"The usual teams of two," Jack said. "Keep your eyes open. This place has a gate room. Hooligans may be coming and going in here." He looked around carefully. "Carter, T, take this level. Mitchell and Vala up. Me and Daniel down. Sit-rep on the quarter. When you find the DHD, Carter, see if you can strip its power source. We could use more juice for the zats."

"Already on my shopping list, sir," Sam said confidently.

"Good," Jack said enthusiastically. "Let's get shopping, campers."

Although Jack was at point, it was Daniel who was leading the way through the old palace. Structures all had stories to tell, even when they didn't have pictograms and tablets of glyphs on the walls. Daniel knew how to read these things. He also knew how to read structures, no matter what their state of decay. This structure, although long abandoned, was not in such a bad state. He led them to an ancillary stair that went down to a lower level.

"Servant and slave's stair," Daniel said quietly as Jack moved with soft, smooth motions, sweeping the area before them with his light and his P-90 at ready.

"The main residence of the house probably ringed into each level."

"Lazy bastards," Jack muttered.

"The style looks Etruscan and a touch of Phoenician," Daniel continued. "I'd say a minor Goa'uld in connection with Cronus held this place."

"I was going to say, it's rather smallish."

"Not everyone could afford to build on a grand scale, especially when they were pouring their wealth into … other things."

"Like bigger weapons?" Jack grinned back at Daniel.

Daniel frowned and then nodded. "Yeah… okay… maybe."

They hit bottom level and Jack turned his light systematically, checking all spaces from floor to ceiling. Daniel, however, turned his light at eye level, looking for the obvious signs of civilization. Writing of any sort would be at natural eye level. They split up briefly to give the wide alcove a good looking at. Daniel heard Jack key his radio.

"Carter, you find that gateroom?"

Sam's voice came back in that familiar canned radio quality. "Found it, sir. And Teal'c and I think you are right. Someone has been here recently."

Daniel turned in time to see Jack's worried frown deepen. "You know what to do," he said into his radio. He then waited a beat and keyed his radio again. "Mitchell?"

"Whole lotta nothin', sir."

"Eyes open."

"Yes, Sir."

Daniel caught Jack's attention with a wave of his hand. "Looks like we are on the right track. I think this is the spa level. If there was going to be a sarcophagus, I would imagine it would be around this area."

"Spa?" Jack nodded with a look of approval. "Sweet!"

"Yes, but the ancient idea of a spa -- the thermae-- was a sulfurous hot spring that one took a swim in and then got rolled in olive oil and scraped with a strigil."

"Why do you have to make it sound so gross?"

"It's just not the kind of spa you're thinking of."

"So?"

"Jack!"

"I'm just sayin'…"

Daniel rolled his eyes. It was then that he noted the gilding on the walls leading back to a main hall.

"This place isn't as picked over as we thought," he murmured.

"How so?" Jack came up to his side, looking down the hall with him.

"Looters strip the easy stuff first," Daniel explained. "That gold gilding can't be all that hard to pry off. There are still jewels set in places too."

"Huh… yeah," Jack agreed. "Maybe they haven't gotten this far."

"Maybe someone hasn't let them," Daniel suggested.

Jack took point again, moving into the main hall. It pushed back for several yards with a few dark doorways leading off to the left and to the right at regular interval. The first proved to be some sort of parlor.

"For entertaining intimate guest," Daniel informed. "Formal guess would be treated to the parlors upstairs. Special guest receiving private attention would be brought here."

"Quiet little cone of silence."

"Yeah, whatever."

They could see at the head of the hall was a double doored entrance. The handles of the door shone like worn old ivory.

"Probably the baths," Daniel said.

"Worth checking?"

"Yeah," Daniel nodded. They had passed all the other rooms, checking each in turn and had yet found anything that even remotely looked like a sarcophagus. What they did find troubled Daniel more than he could put words to.

"There is too much left here, Jack." He tried to voice his concerns all the same. "It's a little dusty, yes, but it is all… here!"

"Maybe the intel was wrong on how long ago this place was abandoned," Jack suggested.

Daniel shook his head, but he had no argument to offer, at least not yet. Maybe it would depend on how much technology they found. During these desperate times, people may be more inclined to leave material wealth behind in lieu of technological and power source gains.

"Let's just check out the spa," Jack said. "I'd like to get outta here today. I really want to resume my nap."

The bath was dry, but the tile, from what they could see from the flashlight beams, was clean with a colorful mosaic at the bottom. At another time, Daniel would have loved to study it carefully and see what the cut colored tiles could have told him of the place and the people who built it. There was, indeed, a door beyond. The approached it.

Jack laid a magnetic door pick along the side panel, adjusting the current and field strength to the door's controls. After a few moments of adjusting, the door slid open.

"Bingo," Jack said softly as the beam of his flashlight caught the carved edges of the large, crypt-type, white marble box.

Daniel frowned, turning to look back at Jack. He stopped himself before he actually said anything. Instead, he turned back to examine their prize. Jack stepped back out of the way, making a wide sweep of the room. It was simple, but still elegant. It was obvious that the owner of the sarcophagus wanted to wake up to simple, sublime ascetics. The walls were gold and ivory, the carvings matching the ornamentation on the sarcophagus itself.

"Suppose it works?"

"Does it matter?" Daniel said back over his shoulder to Jack.

In an instant, the room was bathed in soft golden light. Daniel jumped, turning back to Jack who stood near a panel inset by the entrance.

"I found a light switch," Jack explained blandly as he stuffed a hand in his pocket.

"Thanks." Daniel let the sarcasm drip from his voice.

It was just about then that their radios crackled to life. Cam's voice was quick and calm, but his message made Daniel's blood run cold.

"This is Mitchell. We are under attack…. "

Clear in the background were the sounds of automatic weapons fire and the whoosh-thumps of staff weapon discharge. Once the call cleared on their radios, it was easy to hear the very muffled sounds of a skirmish taking place a few levels above their position.

Jack turned, sprinting out the room without a word to Daniel. Daniel followed, pulling his side arm. The place was just too good to be true. There had to be a hitch, a fight for it, somewhere.

Normally, in a situation like this, despite the condition of his knees, Jack would be moving like lightening. Daniel, for all his younger age and strength, would be hard pressed to keep up with his old solider. During a crisis, at a dead run, Daniel was almost certain that Jack could reach speeds of 80 mph, out stripping most cheetahs. It helped that Jack reminded Daniel of a rangy old cheetah at that. It surprised him when he realized his cheetah was slowing.

He didn't look right. His complexion looked somewhat gray. He was sweating too much. Then Jack stopped. He just stopped in the hall before the alcove. Daniel skidded to a halt behind him, his eyes wide as he watched Jack drop. He went down like a stone, and Daniel already knew that this was not good.

"No no no no… Jack!" Daniel dropped to his knees beside him. He knew. He didn't know how he knew. He just knew. "No no no no no nononononono…" Daniel's denial became a desperate chant as he pulled Jack's lifeless body into his arms.  
~*~

Teal'c was the first back-up Vala saw, rounding the ornate short stair, rolling out of the way of two staff blast and then spraying the area of attack with solid weapon's fire. There was a groan and a thump.

Sam came next diving to the other side and coming up just feet from Vala's own position. Cam was pinned down just a few feet ahead. She could see his calm face. His cheek resting against his weapon, he was breathing deeply, forcing himself to be patient.

There were two more staff blast aimed at Teal'c's position which meant their attacker had to angle himself further out of his cover than before. Vala watched Cam roll low out of his cover to take the shot. Vala came up high.

It was actually Vala's single bullet that found its mark between the man's eyes. Cam's spray of fire just made sure the situation was well over with.

After a few moments, Teal'c and Sam broke cover as well.

"Well, that's that," Vala bounced on her heels as Sam came up to her. Teal'c and Cam went to examine the bodies.

"Jaffa," Cam exclaimed softly.

"Yes," Teal'c agreed as he looked over the man he shot. "And this one is still alive."

Sam immediately turned to go to him. Vala hurried along behind. The man looked wild-eyed with pain and desperation. He didn't look how Vala thought all Jaffa normally looked: hulking, healthy brutes. The man was scraggly, mangy, and ill kempt. His armor looked tarnished and beneath it, the man looked half starved. Teal'c knelt by his side.

"Why are you here?" Teal'c asked the man.

"I belong here, shol'vah! Trash!" The man swallowed down his pain with a grimace. He was dying.

"Ol' symbiote not doing as good as it should?" Vala said softly.

"No," Teal'c replied. "This one has been too compromised by malnourishment and deprivation."

"Trash!" the man spat at them again. "How dare you defile the home of my god!"

"Who is your god?" Teal's asked firmly.

The man winced in pain. "…he will return… we have been faithful… guarded his… He will re…ward…." With a final breath, the light of life left the man's eyes.

"Not in this life time," Cam said softly.

Still, Teal'c closed the man's eyes with respect.

"So," Vala looked about at her comrades. "Do you think there are more?"

"It is possible," Teal'c replied gravely as he rose.

Cam heaved a heavy sigh. "Okay, then we need to sweep this place on alert…"

"Cam?" Sam tapped Cameron's shoulder. He turned to look at her.

"Where're the general and Daniel?"

For a very short moment, every one froze in bewilderment. Finally Cam keyed his radio.

"General, this is Mitchell. Come in?"

…

"Sir?"

…

"General O'Neill?"

…

"Daniel?"

…

"Jackson!" Cam barked impatiently into his mic.

Vala watched as Cam and Sam gave each other identical 'sick with worry' expressions. Then they were moving, Cam turn back briefly, pointing at Vala.

"You and Teal'c stay here. If you don't hear from us, go back to the first level. Secure the exit first!" Then they were gone, sprinting back down the stair.

Vala turned back to Teal'c. "This isn't going well, is it?"  
~*~

It took them longer to find the back stair than it had probably taken Daniel. Sam didn't know all that cultural and archeological stuff about architecture that Daniel knew, but she had worked with the man long enough, that she could figure out what to look for.

Sam took point, moving cautiously into the alcove. She shone her light systematically in every corner and every crevice. She held her berretta out before her as she advanced on the main corridor, hugging the right wall. Cam swung left, his light shining briefly down the long hall. It was empty and silent. Sam held her hand up in a signal to move forward. She motioned to Cam to cover the left and her six as she covered the right and ahead.

Their progression was slow. It was necessary. Each dark doorway held hell-knew-what, and the general would have radioed if there had been trouble. Whatever got them, it got them fast and unawares. Sam was not about to take chances by rushing in.

The first room they checked was empty of life, just a low divan and lots of burgundy cushions around a low table. The carved stone pictograph looked Greek. They came out of the room, heading cautiously towards the next. The sound of something heavy clattering to the floor ahead of them caught Sam off guard. Only her training and experience kept her from jumping as the sound ricocheted off the walls and rattled her raw nerves. Cam turned his P-90 in the direction of the sound, but waited for Sam to make the decision.

Sam nodded, moving forward. Ahead was a pair of carved double doors. She counted her steps silently while observing her own approach to the door. It was a little thing that Teal'c had showed her to help her adjust to her loss of depth perception.

She thought she heard voices even before she opened the ivory-handled door, moving quickly off to the side to be out of the line of fire. Once the door was open, and no staff weapons' discharge was issuing from within the next room, Sam allowed herself a moment to really listen. It was a single voice, male, perhaps singing long and low. She couldn't make out words.

She looked back at Cam who merely shrugged. They advanced together slowly with there lights shining small on the vast room. There was a tiled pit, like a drained swimming pool in the center. They opted not to split up to cover the room, instead, walking together through the marble pillars that stood at intervals along the walkway beside the pool. Cam shone his light briefly into it.

"Mosaic," He muttered.

Sam only nodded. The singing was soft and intermittent, but was coming from further ahead. There was a door on the back wall of the room. It was a simple, but the opening panel was gold and ivory. The door was not shut all the way and soft yellow light glowed about the top, bottom and right of the door frame and door.

Sam took the open side of the door as Cam put himself against the right of the doorway. She gave a short nod and a slight hand motion indicating where she would move. Cam gave her an answering nod.

Sam shoved the door back and open with a hard jerk and moved in swiftly, her weapon held high as Cam came in to her right, low.

The light in the room was not too bright. It was like the warm glow of a bedside lamp. Sam lowered her weapon, her mouth opening in bewilderment. Cam stood up from his crouch, lowering his weapon as well.

"Jackson?" Cam frowned as he looked the man over.

Daniel was singing. Sam didn't recognize the song, but she recognized the language. It was Abydonian. On the floor were his glasses, his side arm and Jack's P-90. The long box was made of marble, carved and inlayed with gold. A side crystal glowed with life. Sam knew it was running through a cycle. Its soft bass hum filled the room almost tenderly.

Daniel lay on top of the sarcophagus, stretched full length. His hands moving in slow stroke across the marble. His face turned towards his two team mates, but his expression was far away. He continued to sing softly.

"Daniel?" Sam approached him carefully, tucking her weapon away in her belt; her voice was full of calm concern. "Daniel, what is it? Where is the general?"

Carefully she laid a hand to his head. Daniel stop singing, blinking hard, he looked up at her.

"Daniel, what happened? Where is Jack?" She asked again.

For a long moment, Daniel stared at her blankly. Sam withdrew her hand. She thought in those seconds that he had, at long last, lost his mind. Everyone understood how closely he skated the edge. But then, and very suddenly, his eyes flooded with tears and his face crumpled. A strangled sob escaped him before he clamped his mouth shut and shook his head violently.

"NO!" He growled. "No regrets," he whispered as he looked back at Sam, blinking his eyes clear, he squinted at her to bring her into focus. Despite the wet tracks of the earlier tears, he looked in control.

"He had a heart attack," Daniel said calmly.

"Fuck," Cam muttered beside her. They knew where Jack was. "Jack's in the box." Cam looked at her. "What do we do?"

Sam shrugged. "Nothing. We really can't do anything until the sarcophagus finishes the cycle."

Daniel laid his head back down on the box and began to hum the tune he had been singing earlier.

"Okay, Daniel," Sam made her voice go hard as she grabbed his arm. She wasn't going to let him lose it like this. The general would never forgive her… provided he came out of the box the same ol' Jack O'Neill. "I need you to talk to me. What happened exactly?"

She tugged on him, pulling him off the lid of the sarcophagus. His feet went down first as a reflex to catch himself, but he didn't seem to want to break contact.

"Come on, Daniel," she pleaded roughly.

Cam caught his other arm and yanked him around by main force. Between Cam and Sam's strength, Daniel could put up little resistance. Daniel stood between them dazed. His body vibrated with fine tremors, and Sam had to wonder if Daniel was going to break yet. But Daniel shook himself from head to toe like an animal shedding water. He then looked up at them.

"We heard your call," Daniel said, looking Cam in the eye. "Jack started back. Then he stopped. He fell over." Daniel heaved a big sigh and looked down at his feet. "He was probably dead before he hit the ground. Massive coronary…"

"How… How can you know?" Cam looked Daniel over as if he had just grown a second head. Daniel looked back at the man with the serious, impatient look that Daniel could get from time to time that often said 'my explanation is way too cerebral for the likes of you.'

"Teal'c said that Jack looked tired and had been complaining about his arm hurting…" Sam murmured mostly to herself.

"Fuck," Cam complained frustrated. "What the ever living fuck!" He threw his arms in the air in a mock plea to the gods.

Sam shook her head, a pained look coming to her face. "Jack…"

"No, Sam!" Cam pointed a terse, angry finger in her face. "Don't you say it! General O'Neill is the strongest sonovabitch in this galaxy. The only motherfucker who has more lives is that froot loop over there!" He pointed his finger at Daniel.

"What do we do if he's addicted?" Sam asked.

"One time doesn't always cause addiction," Cam argued.

"This isn't his first time," Sam argued back. "He's had sarcophagus addiction before!"

Cam sputtered, throwing his hands in defeat. He began to pace like a caged tiger. "I dunno!" His voice went up and octave and almost cracked. He did another short circuit and stopped, looking at Sam. "Why are we arguing anyway?"

"I dunno!" Sam growled back and ran a hand through her hair. "We're scared," she said in a calmer tone.

As they looked at each other, Daniel moved away, going back to the sarcophagus. He slid down to the floor beside it, his knees up and his hands folded before him. He began to rock in short motions. He was humming again very softly. Sam looked down at him, grabbing her own head in her hands. Jack had a coronary and died?

Unthinkable. General Jack O'Neill was unstoppable. They all thought that, but Sam had been about to admit that Jack was getting older, and his body had taken a lifetime of abuse and hard use. A massive coronary, even for a man who was in relatively good shape like the general, was not so out of the realm of possibilities.

Sam sighed again and sat next to Daniel, draping an arm about his shoulders. She pulled him close, into a sisterly hug. Was it any wonder Daniel was in such a state? Jack was the only thing Daniel had left to ground on. Yes, he had his friends, but somehow, they were not enough. Daniel needed a home. Jack was his home. Sam wondered if that issue in Daniel came from the childhood of foster-care and constant upheaval or if it was just that Daniel had never had a single relationship in his life that remained stable.

"It's gonna be okay," Sam whispered to him.

"Oh god, Sam," he said softly as he leaned against her. "He would have left me…"

"I know he didn't want to," she reassured him.

"I better let Teal'c in on this," Cam said down to them. Sam nodded.

She watched him as he stepped away a few feet and key his radio. It was necessary for him to step back a bit to keep Sam's and Daniel's radios from creating annoying feedback.

"Teal'c, how's your situation?"

"We have secured this level. It appears that there are no other Jaffa." Teal'c responded

"Yeah, I think we lucked out on that score," Cam came back with.

"You have found O'Neill and Daniel Jackson?"

"Yeah," Cam sighed heavily. "It ain't cool." There was a long pause in which Cam could clearly imagine Teal'c's raised-eyebrow expression.

"Explain," was Teal'c's reply.

Cam settled his brain a bit before he opened his mouth again. He made his explanation short but complete. "According to Jackson, the general suffered a massive coronary; so he put him in the sarcophagus and started it cooking."

"You mean to tell me that Daniel Jackson place O'Neill into the sarcophagus and began a cycle of renewal."

"That would be it, big guy."

"We will be down shortly."  
~*~

Cam was pacing. Sam sat with Daniel, her arms about him, talking to him in a soft, concerned voice. The sarcophagus was indeed on.

Cam looked up as Teal'c and Vala entered the room. He stopped and looked to them expectantly. "Just how long does it take for one of these things to do the job?"

"It depends upon the extent of the damage to the body," Teal'c answered.

"It could take hours at the least," Vala added.

"Great," Cam groused. "So we are stuck here for at least a few hours."

"At the least," Vala repeated.

"At the most?"

"A few days… but I doubt that we will," she said, contritely. "A failure of a heart muscle is not a lot of damage."

"But it is fatal damage," Teal'c said. "It will take time to repair."

"Well," Vala clapped her hands together with a grim smile. "That just means we have more time to get our hands on stuff. Really clean this place out well. After all, when the general wakes up and see us just lollygagging about with nothing to show for it, he's going to be livid."

Cam looked at Vala, and then looked down at Sam, who looked back up at him. Daniel didn't look up. He continued to study his hands and let Sam rock him.

"Might as well," Sam said. Her hand continued their soothing strokes over Daniel's arms and back. "This could take some time, and Vala's right. This place was guarded. There has to be more."

"It was obvious that someone had disabled the DHD," Teal'c added. "The main control crystals were missing. The Jaffa who defended this place more than likely did it to stop the theft of their god's possessions."

"Strand the thieves." Cam nodded in understanding. "Good thing we don't rely on gates so much."

"Indeed. Samantha and I had only just discovered the DHD's status as you called for assistance."

"Sorry for the inconvenience."

"It was not a hindrance," Teal'c nodded gravely to Cam.

"Good," Cam said and turned back to Sam.

"Go," she ordered calmly. "I'll keep you posted… and I'll keep Daniel outta trouble."

"I shall search for the missing crystals for the DHD and continue the removal of the liquid naquadah power source," Teal'c replied.

Cam turned from Sam and Daniel and the sarcophagus that supposedly was healing the dead body of his commander. As natural as it had felt to assume some level of command himself, he had almost instantly became acutely aware that Sam was now their commander. The general never stopped calling her his 2IC. Cam shrugged and looked to Vala.

"Coming?"

She shrugged in return and followed.  
~*~

The first time Cam returned, Vala blathering on at his side about why they should consider taking some of the gaudier pieces of material wealth in the place, not much had changed except Sam had let Daniel crawl back up on the sarcophagus lid. He looked to be sleeping; his hands limp down the carved marble sides. Sam still sat at the base, waiting.

Teal'c had found a weapons cache and was organizing piles of zats and staff weapons to load on to the ship. Cam pulled Vala along to help. It seemed like the best thing to do.

After two trips to the ship and back, Cam returned with Teal'c and Vala to find Daniel awake and pacing, arms wrapped tight across his chest. Sam was standing as well, but she stood off to the side, watching Daniel with concern still in her eyes.

"Still cooking?" Vala said. Daniel didn't answer. She looked over at Cam and bit her lip.

"It's only been two hours… and thirty minutes," Sam said in a reassuring voice towards Daniel. Still Daniel didn't answer. He said nothing. He kept pacing with his head down.

"Won't be long now," Vala smiled at him, trying to seem encouraging. Vala always over did it, Cam thought as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Daniel stopped. "I shouldn't have put him in there," he muttered.

"Too late for regrets," Cam replied on the end of a deep breath.

"You did what you thought was best… to save his life," Vala said gently as she place a hand on Daniel's shoulder. Daniel was lucid again. It sort of gave everyone a strange permission to relax. Even Sam's shoulders lost that band-tight tension that made her neck look thicker than it was.

"CPR might have…" Cam started sarcastically but stopped as he saw Sam's single eye on him, drilling a laser shot through his head.

"Down, sister-soldier," Cam muttered under his breath as he turned away, heading aimlessly towards the marble sarcophagus. He stopped at its side, staring down at it with a frown as the girls continued to comfort and baby Jackson.

It was times like these that Cam found it hard to hold his respect for the man. Before everything went south, Cam had found Daniel Jackson to be a competent team member and a passable solider. He never worried that Jackson allowed his science to distract him perhaps far more than was sensible, and he never thought, considering Daniel Jackson's life history, that the man would crack under pressure. But Cam knew, everyone had their limits. Considering the breaking point, and what it took to get there, he could easily see that Jackson had seen a lion's share of woe.

Nevertheless, Cam, unable as he was to understands the depths of the man's personal loss in the face of his own, still could not help but feel some resentment when faced with Daniel's lapses into psychosis. No one else was allowed that luxury. Certainly he wasn't after realizing that his family, his friends and every part of his life and childhood in Kansas was gone forever, wiped out of existence by space invaders called down on them by the inadvertent actions of one Dr. Daniel Jackson.

It didn't matter. Daniel didn't deserve his resentment, Cam knew, and he sucked it in. The general loved him. The general made him the center of his universe and Jackson had made the general the center of his own. Losing the general may be on this side of 'way too much' for the man. Cam looked over his shoulder. Vala was stroking Jackson's shoulder and looking up into his face with large caring eyes.

Cam could understand that, as he watched Vala purse her lips in concern. He began to wonder what he would do if he ever lost his favorite pain in the ass. It made him want to go over there and wrap his arms about her possessively and plant a little kiss in her thick, raven black hair that covered her impressively hard-head.

The loud scrap of stone on stone caused Cam to jump in surprise. He turned back to the sarcophagus. The stone lid was pulling back, and bright light flooded the room from within its depths. Cam jumped back a little, shocked as the light stung his eyes before flashing off quickly like the scan bar of a copy machine.

"Whoa!"

Sam was the first by his side, looking down expectantly. Cam really expected Daniel to be there, pushing them out of his way as he tried to retrieve his fallen lover. He didn't. So Sam and Cam were the first to see the general and have the general see them.

"Oh!" Sam squeaked.

"Whoa!" Cam repeated himself.

General O'Neill looked up at them in confusion, probably trying to figure out how he went from running in a dark hall to laying flat on his back in an uncushioned marble box.

"What?" He said weakly, but cleared his throat with authority. "Carter? What the hell is up with you two?"

"A…." Carter stalled out, her breath escaping her without words. Her mouth moved as her head shook in denial.

Seeing that his 2IC was experiencing what could only be a massive brain fart, the general looked expectantly at Cam. Cam looked down at him, squinting for a second. His eyes were not deceiving him, and certainly Sam saw what he saw or she would be acting somewhat more normal.

Cam had never noticed how brown the general's eyes were. They were wide and brown and piecing under an expressive brow. His skin was smooth in that way women wish their skin was smooth. That uncanny blush of youth on his cheeks matched the smooth pink of lips, forming a perfect, mobile line on his face. Cam could tell this man was his commanding officer. There was no doubt in his mind that this was General Jack O'Neill. And Cam, never one to miss the extraordinary when faced with it, had to admit that this man was way prettier than him… at least in his humble opinion. Other opinions may vary.

The general sat up, looking at Cam with an intense frown as he absently ran a hand through purely honey, brown hair; not even the slightest hint of gray anywhere in the thick but short mane.

"What? I have spinach in my teeth?"

"No, sir," Cam replied crisply, pulling himself up, more or less, into an 'attention' posture with eyes forward. They were silent for a moment longer. Daniel came to stand by his side with Vala holding his arm. Teal'c took a position at Sam's left shoulder. None of them had words. Mouths hung open for longer than Cam could ever remember. Finally, Cam said the very first thing that came into his blank brain.

"You look a lot like that MacGyver guy…. Sir?"


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was reluctant to remove the sarcophagus from its position just yet. It was obviously an extraordinary sarcophagus with abilities that they had not heard possible yet in any Goa'uld technology.

They had helped General O'Neill out of the chamber and he had looked at them, not understanding what had happened… until Teal'c explained. And Sam had to admit, she was very glad that Teal'c had volunteered to be the messenger. She knew that the general would be upset about the 'shoved into a sarcophagus' part, and regardless of the fact the messenger was not the offending party, the messenger was always the person who received the leading edge of Jack's ire.

A youthful appearance did nothing to soften that. In fact, the general's eyes flashed fire in a way that made Sam jump in shock and feel the tingle of blush on her cheeks at the same time. She shook her head. He was cute, but he was the general. Persona non grata. She had Teal'c anyway, and looking at her large beloved as he calmly faced Jack's fury made her warm all over in far happier ways.

"IN the sarcophagus!" he bellowed. "Fer cryin' out loud, DANIEL!"

"Jack, you were dead," Daniel replied calmly.

"Maybe it was my time, ya know?"

"No!" Daniel shouted, looking wild eyed for a second; then he clamped his lips shut, a jaw muscle working tightly under the strain of staying in control.

"What is done is done, O'Neill," Teal'c said in the most soothing tone Sam knew Teal'c possessed.

The general looked at his own hands. He examined them closely. "It looks like I gained weight if I look at these, but my pants are about to fall down around my ankles."

Vala's eyes perked up at that and she bounced on the balls of her feet. Cam nudged her, ramming his shoulder into hers. She looked down and away.

"Sir," Sam said cautiously.

"Give it to me straight, Carter," he said turning to her. She had positioned herself near the control pedestal of the sarcophagus, examining the symbols. They were a mixture of normal Goa'uld glyphs but they also had a vague resemblance to ancient Greek letters. She ran her finger along a tile that had a strangely stylized rho inscribed on it.

"Well, Sir, if I had to guess, I'd say mid twenties?"

"Oookay."

"I think it is obvious that this sarcophagus is not your run-of-the-mill Goa'uld sarcophagus," Sam added. "I need some time to look it over, but I think it would be best if we got it back to In'takra. There are others there who would be better at spotting what we need to be looking for that makes this one special."

"I have never heard of a Goa'uld to possess such a device," Teal'c commented. "Most sarcophagus maintain a host at a steady age until the madness sets in. Only then does deterioration show. A Goa'uld who would possess such a device as this would possibly desire to limit the necessity of host transferal."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just transfer once the host deteriorates," Daniel said, getting that gleam in his eye that he only got when facing an interesting debate. "After all, that is one of the reasons they keep armies of slaves at there sides. Personal slaves are well treated in the event that they must someday become the new host. No sense taking up a body you have already abused."

"A Goa'uld of limited wealth and position may not have such slave resources," Teal'c argued back smoothly.

"And yet he had resources enough to plan and develop this sarcophagus," Daniel pointed out.

"He could have had backers," Vala added quickly.

A sharp whistle pierced the air. Everyone turned to look at the general who glared at them, his youthful mouth set in a firm frown after he lowered his fingers from his whistle.

"Let's not worry about why the snake head had a personal way-back machine. Let's just get it off this rock and back to In'takra."

The general pushed past the others to stand before Daniel. Sam lowered her eyes wondering what the general would do. She half expected him to yell at him, but she also knew that the general understood Daniel in a way no one else did.

He simply laid a hand to Daniel's shoulder, lightly cupping his neck. "You okay?" he asked gently.

Daniel nodded. Jack stepped away, turning to address them all. "Well?" he paused looking about at each of them. "I don't see a sarcophagus moving."

That made everyone move at once to, at the very least, fake industry.  
~*~

It was hard to play dumb when everyone thought you looked like MacGyver. Even Teal'c agreed in the resemblance. Vala just shrugged. She didn't know enough about Earth popular culture to have an opinion.

Jack tried not to concern himself with what had happened. There would be time for that later. For now, they had a job to do, and getting the sarcophagus onto the flat bed of the ATV was job one.

It took Sam a while to disconnect the control device and check the base. She grumbled about taking the damn thing out of 'in situ', but Jack ignored her half-hearted protest. He knew she was itching inside to tear the thing apart to see what made it tick. Jack just nodded at her and looked impatient, demanding simplified explanations on the whys and what-fors.

It was incredibly tiresome to play dumb when they looked at you differently, expectantly. Dumb was a command skill that O'Neill adopted to let his specialists do their jobs efficiently. Letting them know he understood them mostly could lead to assumptions, and in their line of work, assumptions could turn deadly. Never assume. It makes an ASS out of U and ME.

He felt odd. He felt tight in his own skin. He hadn't seen what he looked like in a mirror yet, and despite what the others had told him, he was not forming a mental picture of the reality in his mind. It was odd, but he couldn't really 'see' it. Mid to late twenties?

He had to admit, he felt good. He felt exemplary. There were thing he did, movements that he would have to make from time to time within the course of a day in which he would have to suppress a grimace and a groan. Suddenly, these movements, movements that he had taken for granted when he was young, were no longer such a problem. The shock came the first time he bent his knees and put his back into the lifting of the base of the control device for the sarcophagus. He and Teal'c had taken an end. It looked manageable between two grown men, and he had actually beaten Daniel and Mitchell to a side. He bent his knees and lifted.

God, it was heavy, but he and Teal'c managed it. There was no pain. No knee pain. No back pain. It was a total shock. It threw him for a second as they put the thing down on the palette on the flat bed. Mitchell and Vala were bungee cording it into place. Teal'c noticed Jack's wide eyed expression first.

"Is there something wrong, O'Neill?"

"No…." He turned to look at Teal'c and blinked. "No, and that's what's floorin' me."

Teal'c regarded him with an inquisitive expression.

"Nothing hurts," Jack explained.

"Then all is well," Teal'c said.

Jack's eyes narrowed as he thought this over. "Maybe."

The sarcophagus itself required all of them and some special grab units that the Tok'ra had developed for lifting heavy objects. Jack didn't completely know how they work, nor did he care to know. They worked, and that was enough for him. He'd leave the physics to Carter.

They hoisted it with care into place on the flat bed. There was no room for anything else.

"Be damn nice to just ring it up to the ground floor," O'Neill complained.

"I think we can, sir." Carter said, coming to stand next to him. "This place was inhabited. There is no reason to believe that all the other technology in this place is not in working order."

"Well then," He looked at her in his particular 'Jack' way, eyebrows raised and mouth in a dignified, if not superior, frown. It was the way he looked at any of them when he was about to make an obvious order. "Find the rings and do it."

Carter smiled, ducked her head, and for a split second, Jack was sure she suppressed a giggle.

"What!?"

"Nothing, sir," Her face straighten out to total business: the Carter game face. That was when Vala started laughing.

"You look so…."

Daniel was smiling. Even Teal'c looked mildly amused. Mitchell ducked his head slightly, his professional composure never wavering.

"With all due respect, sir…," Carter began.

"Aht! Don't!" Jack stopped her with a raised finger. He seriously didn't want to know… yet.  
~*~

Jack took control of the situation firmly. That was the only way he knew of to reassert a sense of normality back to his team. He sent Sam, Cam and Vala back to the ship with their heisted sarcophagus while he took Teal'c and Daniel through the rest of the palace to get the whole story of the place.

Teal'c took them up to the bodies of the dead guardians of the palace.

"Why didn't they just use the stargate? Why didn't they save themselves?" Daniel asked out loud with a thoughtful frown.

"They believed in their god. They feared their god," Teal'c replied smoothly.

"Their god was probably long dead," Jack said softly.

"It is very possible," Teal'c agreed. "Anyone who arrived to this place through the gate was probably met by these guards. They would not return to their point of origin."

"Good thing we used the front door then." Jack grinned at Teal'c. Teal'c gave him a pleasant nod in return.

"Yes, O'Neill, I believe we made a very wise choice."

"Let's not forget that we don't exactly know the gate address, and we don't want to trigger any of the bounty markers out for us by the Ori," Daniel added irritated tone.

"Yeah, "Jack nodded pleasantly. "There is that, too."

Teal'c nodded in agreement.

Daniel gave an exasperated sigh and moved on.

"Well excuse us," O'Neill muttered loudly as he followed.

Daniel did not say much more for the rest of the expedition, but Jack was not worried. Daniel seemed more irritated than irrational, and Carter had let Jack know on the quiet, before the recovery team headed back to the ship that Daniel had had a brief psychotic break that had lead to O'Neill's stint in the sarcophagus. Jack kept an eye on Daniel, but he seemed more like himself than most times. He was more interested in studying the inscriptions in the palace's throne room than he was in finding strategic technology.

Jack left him alone. The place was secured, and they would get out soon. There wasn't much left to pick over except the material wealth. They would leave that for some other treasure hunter.

When it was time to go, Jack calmly went to Daniel and collected him away from his reading. He did, however, return to Jack with an arm-load of Goa'uld data tablets that Jack stuffed into a pack for him.

Daniel didn't protest, and that did worry Jack, but only in a sustained nagging way. There was a time that Jack would have gotten an ear full of Daniel if he pulled him away from some fascinating relic or inscriptions before he got his fill. Daniel didn't do that anymore.

But, then again, back in the day, Daniel would have taken off to investigate without Jack's approval; just start trotting away to satisfy his curiosity, regardless of the security situation. Jack had hated that, and he was so glad those days were well over. After a few years and some spectacular missteps, Daniel learned his lesson and learned to follow Jack's command, at least grudgingly.

They returned to the ship. Everything was loaded and secured. Carter was still hovering over the sarcophagus, checking the cargo moorings. Vala was by her side. Jack took a moment, breaking away from Daniel and Teal'c to check out their acquisition.

 

"It's all secured?"

"Yes, sir," Carter replied, not looking up at him, but continuing to run a radiation scan over the long marble box. "No damage from the move."

"Cool," Jack said with a pleased smirk, rocking slightly on his heels. Carter looked up at him then, and she almost seemed to flinch. It was more like a blink of momentary shock but then she smiled back at him.

"We're ready to go," she said.

"Okay," Jack nodded. He turned to walk away. That was when he heard Vala mumble, "He's freaking you out."

Sam whispered something back that Jack could barely make out. It was something like, "And he's not freaking you out, too?"

Vala only snorted. Jack didn't hear the rest of it. He was already heading up the hold stairs, heading for the main ship. Jack turned back for a second with a thoughtful frown, but both women were back to work, heads down over their new, shiny sarcophagus. Jack had to wonder. He didn't even realize that Vala knew what the term 'freak-out' meant.

Teal'c was in the galley, drinking one of their rare bottled waters. They had so few left from their foray to Earth that they treated them like champagne. Nobody could explain why, but Earth bottle water just tasted better, sweeter, fresher, and cleaner. They even had all the equipment to ozone purify water right there on the ship, and yet, the bottle stuff was better by far. Teal'c was obviously allowing himself an indulgence after a mission well done.

"MacGyver?" Jack squinted at the Jaffa with mock scorn.

"There is a resemblance, O'Neill," Teal'c replied smoothly. "I had always thought so. Your appearance now only heightens the similarity."

"Great," Jack growled. "Just peachy… but don't expect me to fix anything with a toothpick, nail clippers, duct tape and a turkey baster."

"I shall endeavor to refrain from such expectations."

Jack looked Teal'c over suspiciously, but the man was a stone, the best poker-face in the galaxy. The main atmospheric thrusters fired. All other conversation stopped as Mitchell's voice came over the ship-wide com.

"We're outta here, folks. ETA to In'takra: 248 hours. Make the most of it."  
~*~

Jack found Daniel in their room. He was sitting at his desk, a Goa'uld tablet resting nearby and several of his notebooks open. Daniel was writing quickly in one of them as if he feared he would forget whatever it was that was consuming him for the moment. Jack figured it had to be the writing in the palace throne room. Daniel was figuring out the puzzle of this Goa'uld. Jack walked past him, sitting on the bed with a small sigh. Daniel did not look up.

Jack took off his boots, wiggling his toes in his thick gray socks, feeling relieved to be able to do such. It was nice to feel the soft endorphin glow of post mission. Then the curiosity struck him hard. He was on his feet and heading towards their bathroom before he could even really put conscious thought to what he was feeling. Therefore, what he saw in the mirror shocked the bejeezus outta him.

He didn't gasp, bellow, or call out to Daniel to explain himself. He just stared. Then he ran his hand over his chin and jaw the way guys in those shaving commercials did when they examined the closeness of the shave. Not that he had a close shave at all, but the skin was smooth and soft. It was only then that he realized how leathery his skin had been prior. That could have been a distressing thought if he had been able to put it into context. At the moment, he was far too confused. He came out of the bathroom, the door shutting quietly behind him. He sat back down on the bed.

"For what it is worth," Daniel said softly, not looking up from his work, "I don't think you look like MacGyver."

"Huh?" Jack looked at him.

"You don't have a stupid mullet hairdo, and you don't look as kind."

That actually knocked the wind right out of Jack and he stared at Daniel in surprise. Then he blinked, recovering.

"General Bastard, eh? Yeah you betcha, that's me. GI-jerk."

"I didn't mean it that way, Jack," Daniel said, straightening up and turning to him. It shocked Jack to see the remorseful look in Daniel's eyes while his voice seemed so calm and in control. It was obvious to Jack that Daniel was still distressed. Jack's near fatal adventure had shaken Daniel to the very core. It was too much too soon. But, by God, he knew Daniel was trying.

Jack stood, going to Daniel's side. Daniel didn't say a word, but just grasped Jack as he came close enough, throwing his arms about Jack's waist and burying his face in Jack's chest. Only then did Daniel let go, trembling so hard that Jack feared he could fly apart. Jack soothed him tenderly, stroking a hand through Daniel's hair and whispering reassuring words.

"It's okay. I'm here," Jack whispered and then lowered his head to place a gentle kiss in Daniel's hair.

"You were dead," Daniel said, his voice low and slightly thicker. "You were dead before you even hit the floor, you fucking bastard. You would have left me alone!"

"Daniel," Jack said softly.

"No!" Daniel pulled back and looked up at him. He was angry, downright furious and his eyes burned up at Jack through his partially fogged glasses. "No! You said, 'Maybe it was my time.'"

"Daniel…" He really didn't know how to explain himself other than the truth, but he knew Daniel would never accept it. "I don't want to owe my life to a fucking, dirty sarcophagus!" he ground out.

"You don't," Daniel said, struggling to speak clearly again. "You owe it to me."

Jack's eyes softened on him then and he let his hand stroke through Daniel's hair soothingly. "Okay, Danny," he said, letting the warmth back into his tone. "It's okay."

Jack had known that he had allowed this unnatural dependency grow in Daniel, and for the most part, he was ashamed of himself for it. But he also knew that it was his own dependency that fueled his actions. He needed Daniel to need him. It was part of what made Jack O'Neill's life worth living anymore.

He pulled Daniel close again and stoked his hair. "I'm not gonna leave you. I don't want to leave you. You understand me?"

Daniel pulled back again, looking Jack in the eyes. "Make love to me."

Well, Daniel's wish was his command when it came to shit like that. Looking down at him, his eyes red-rimmed and his cheeks flush with emotion, Jack could feel the vulnerability from the man that sparked his need to protect and cherish. Daniel was so very special, and the whole universe wanted him, dead or alive. Daniel was his. It was a responsibility that Jack took very seriously.

Jack knelt before Daniel, taking his face tenderly between his hands, and kissing his soft, full lips. Daniel had a sinfully beautiful mouth that Jack never took for granted. When he kissed Daniel, he always made sure he did it thoroughly, sucking gently on his pouting lower lip and licking lightly across the edge of the upper. Daniel shivered slightly and breathed Jack's name against his lips.

Jack pulled back to look at his Daniel, knowing what he wanted to do to him. 248 hours to In'takra and he could think of how to kill at least 124 of them. He pulled Daniel's glasses off his nose and placed them behind him on his small desk space. Tenderly, he ran his thumbs across the curve of Daniel's cheekbone.

"C'mon," Jack whispered, raising up off his knees, and totally missing the moment that they did not pop from the hyperextension. He took one of Daniel's hands in his and lifted him from his chair. He pulled him close.

Daniel wrapped his arms about Jack, clinging to him desperately. Jack held him. He held him like he had done so many times before. He remembered all the other times he had needed to hold him, realizing it had always been as much about his own needs as it had been for Daniel's. Looking back, he was amazed at himself, wondering how he had let himself be so dick-whipped by the Air Force that he had never let himself have what he really needed.

He needed Daniel. He always had, and he had begrudgingly let go of him on Abydos because Jack thought he owed something to Sara. Then everything kept changing… except for him. He kept letting Daniel go. He knew he had had to let him go after Kelowna. He actually still resented Daniel for that.

Then the Ori bitch-slapped them both and Jack decided to stop letting go. He held on like a badger, never letting Daniel slip away. No more. He had put on his own fucking selfish show now for almost a solid year. Why shouldn't Daniel ask for a little of the same? So they held on to each other like the sons-of-bitches that they were, and Jack recognized the fact that he did owe Daniel his life after he had forced Daniel to give in to his own need.

"I fucking hate you, Jack O'Neill," Daniel whispered against his shoulder.

"Well, I hate me, too," Jack sighed. He then nuzzled tender kisses to the curve of Daniel's strong jaw line, just against a pulse point. Daniel turned his head, capturing Jack's mouth in an angry, passionate kiss. Daniel moved his hands to either side of Jack's face, holding him in a desperate grip as he plundered his mouth. He let his hands slide into Jack's hair, his fingers gripping painfully.

He let Jack's mouth go with a small nip.

"You're mine. You belong to me," Daniel growled low. "Death can't have you. No one can have you. Just me!" He shook Jack's head angrily punctuating his words and gripping so hard that Jack was certain that Daniel would just be holding clumps of hair soon.

"Ow! Damn it, Daniel!" Jack gasped as Daniel pulled him by the hair to the bed. It figured that Daniel would go all 'caveman' on him, Jack mused.

"Fucking shut up!" Daniel growled as he pushed Jack down to the bed. Jack looked up at him stunned. Daniel was practically panting, filled with a sexual rage that Jack could certainly understand. This was part of the fear reaction. It came with the need to reassert control to one's own little corner of reality. Jack had known this sort of lust, too. When he was younger, after coming out of close missions, coming home to Sara and practically fucking her into next week just because he needed to feel alive and know that she was with him and that they were alive together. Those kinds of fucks had always felt like a little piece of heaven.

Daniel's face was flush bright and he was probably pumped full of adrenaline. Jack knew he could end this if he wanted to… but he didn't want to. He had to be truthful with himself. Part of him wanted to be owned by Daniel. Part of him needed to be held down and possessed by him. He wouldn't fight. He would submit. He could end it. He was a trained fighter and Daniel was not running on all his mental gears, but Jack would not resist, not tonight.

To that end, Jack lifted his face up to look Daniel in the eyes, turning his head slightly, bearing his neck. Daniel took a deep, trembling breath.

"Fucking want you…" Daniel said in a shuddering whisper. "Want you so bad! Oh God!" Daniel moaned loud and long and it sounded as if he was in sheer pain. Jack only beckoned him with his eyes. He parted his lips, moistening them slowly. Then Daniel was on him, tackling him back to the bed. Daniel's hands were tearing impatiently at his clothing. His mouth was on his throat, biting, sucking, and marking what was his.

"Fuck me," Jack whispered against Daniel's hair. "Make me yours," He ground out from between clenched teeth. He grabbed fistfuls of Daniel's shirt, pulling him down hard on top of him. Jack ground his groin against Daniel's hip bone with a hiss and a growl.

"Want you," Daniel whispered again. Jack heard the sound of fabric ripping. He knew it was his shirt and he was glad it wasn't one of his favorites. Cool air brushed over his bare flesh where Daniel had liberated him from the shirt. As more of him became exposed, Daniel hastened to cover it with his mouth, as if he was determined to kiss ever inch of Jack.

Daniel fastened on to a nipple, sucking like a baby and whimpering softly. Jack stroked his head tenderly and shushed his desperate noises, whispering soothing words to him. He cradled Daniel in his arms, pressing him close, brushing kisses through his hair. The feeling of Daniel's need shot through Jack, an uncanny desire ricocheting in his soul, making him impossibly hard, hard enough to pound nails.

Daniel's hands were restless. They moved over Jack, stroking, touching, and needing. Jack let them. He even facilitated them by undoing the fly of his pants when they brushed low enough to breach the waistline. Daniel nuzzled close for a second more and then looked up at Jack.

"Want you," he whispered again. So Jack helped him ease himself out of his pants and boxers.

Daniel went wild, kissing as much of Jack as he could while he frantically removed his own clothing. More fabric was ripped in the process.

"Easy there, Hulk" Jack whispered with soft amusement. "I'll be sewing for months." Jack felt a small gust of breath just above his naval that could have been Daniel's soft replying chuckle. Jack gave a soft chuckle and Daniel looked up to him with a silly, adorable grin.

Then they were laughing. They were together, they were naked, they were aroused, and they were laughing. But it wasn't hysterical laughter; it was the clean laughter of being alive and together. Daniel's eyes sparkled with unshielded joy, and Jack's heart swelled.

"That's much better," Jack said smiling as he reached out to run his thumb lovingly along Daniel's lower lip.

Daniel came back up to kiss him. They kissed long and deep and slow, stretched out next to each other and pressed close. The fire had cooled a bit, but the passion was still strong. When Daniel pulled away from him, looking him deeply in the eyes, Jack could still see the naked want within him.

"Will you ride me?" Daniel asked in a softer, much more tentative voice.

Jack smiled, touching Daniel's face again. Daniel's wish was Jack's desire.

This was easy. It was so easy to let Daniel lay back; to watch Daniel as he watched with loving eyes as Jack prepared himself, straddled over his hips. It was easy to tenderly oil Daniel's fingers as if he were anointing him in some sacred ceremony, and guide them to his opening. It was easy to manipulate Daniel's fingers inside him as he stroked Daniel's erection with a well oiled hand.

He loved watching Daniel watch him; the way Daniel tracked his movement with his bright, china-doll eyes, even when he reached over to the bedside table to sit the lubricant aside. Jack loved the way his eyes widened in awe, as Jack began to guide Daniel's stiff member to his now slick and ready opening. Jack loved the way Daniel's eyes slid close and his beautiful mouth made that adorable little O when Jack lowered himself ever so slowly, inch by delicious inch onto his hot erection. Jack loved the way Daniel whispered so softly, so warmly, in Arabic that he loved Jack, as Jack came to settle down on Daniel, sheathing him completely.

Jack whispered back in Arabic, "naäam, anaa afham tamaaman." ('Yeah, I know' or the Arabic equivalent to' yeahsureyoubetcha'.)

Then they were moving, rocking and swaying in perfect synchronicity with the other's desire; the beat of passion still a slow but powerful rhythm between them. Jack looked down at Daniel.

Daniel glowed, sparkling with perspiration in the soft lamp light. His lips parted and trembling, his neck cording as he strained upward a little with each push. Jack's eyes were drawn to the strong pectoral muscles. Nestled between them lay Jack's dog tags. He had put them on Daniel that day on Chulak, when he first told Daniel, and anyone else for at least a couple of mile radius, that he loved him. He didn't say it often, but when he said it, he meant it, and he usually said it when they were in bed.

"Love you, Danny," he whispered so softly, that it came out more as a breath than as sound. But he knew Daniel had heard him just by the way his eyes glowed and his hands grasped and trembled on his thigh and hip.

Daniel was whispering in Arabic again, "S gheer-jamil… qobeeh... anaa uħibbuk" (So beautiful… so perfect… I love you!)

And Jack loved this best of all, when he made Daniel so distracted, and so ignited with passion that he reverted to the language of his childhood. Jack listened as Daniel babbled on about how very beautiful Jack looked above him. He watched Daniel's face, an attractive rose blush on his cheeks, and his bright eyes dilated by passion, glowing blue rings surrounding deep dark pools. He rode Daniel easy, rocking back shallowly on his hardness while lightly stroking himself. He was looking to draw it out for Daniel's sake. Daniel needed this.

Jack had to wonder if Daniel was even aware that he was no longer talking in English when he asked Jack to come for him. He had often wondered at time like this if he had confused the snot out of Sha're with his non-stop Arabic babble during sex. Jack was not a big sex talker, and he had been amused but not surprised to find out that Daniel was.

Jack rocked back, changing the angle and pitch of his body to rub that special place within. Daniel's thighs widened further to accommodate him. Jack's grip firmed on his own erection as he got down to business. He nearly wanted to laugh when he heard Daniel say, 'Oh yes! Fuck yourself on my cock!" because it just sounded so strange and slightly ridiculous in Arabic. However, Jack only smiled softly, gazing down at Daniel. From that point on, Jack's thoughts got a little disjointed.

Yes, this was easy… too easy. This was never one of Jack's favorite positions mostly because of what it did to his back and knees. However, this time, it was as easy as pie. Jack threw his head back with a moan of sheer abandonment as he literally stroked himself on Daniel's hardness over and over. His free hand ran lightly over his own chest, brushing his sensitive nipples until they peaked. He smiled as Daniel grabbed his hips hard, making a noise that was somewhere between a sob and a growl.

His hips held tight by Daniel's strong hands, Jack rode him as Daniel surged up fiercely, growling and grunting in effort.

"Come… For… Me!"

Finally, some English; Jack smiled, letting the wave of pleasure crest from within, just as semen began to pulse forth from him. His back stretched and arched, beautifully, his muscles going taut with the rolling contractions of sharp pleasure. Jack's eyes closed as his climax took him, a sun-burst of sensation that robbed him momentarily of breath. He trembled with it, loosing track of what was going on around him for a few short seconds; that was until he heard Daniel's long moan that nearly turned into a ragged shout. The sound of it was like anger and frustration being torn from his core, but Daniel was coming. He was trembling and thrashing, half formed words in Arabic and English tried to come free but were consumed by gasps and strangled moans.

Jack swallowed hard, panting. Daniel was slowing, coming down from the high, trembling so hard that Jack thought something was wrong with him. Carefully, he lowered himself, balancing on one arm over Daniel. He pulled up slowly lettings Daniel's erection slip partially free.

"You okay?" Jack whispered to him. Daniel's eyes were still closed and his lips parted as he breathed heavily through them. Slowly Daniel's eyes opened, glowing softly in the lamp light.

"I'm fine," he said, in out-of-breath whisper.

Carefully, Jack slipped off of Daniel's still hard member, moving his leg over his body so that he could lay beside him. Jack stretched out next to Daniel, who continued to lay on his back, managing to look sleepy, sated, and stunned all at the same time. Jack ran the knuckles of his right hand gently along the curve of Daniel's cheek. Jack looked down Daniel's sweat soaked body, past the dribbles and pools of come that lay in a string upward from the edge of his pubic hair to the center of his sternum. Jack's come, and Jack thought it looked very good on him.

Daniel turned his head to look at him, his eyes were still glowing with love and wonder and Jack smiled back at him, until a small thought occurred to him. It was a strange, tangent thought that took the edge off the glow. Daniel was fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Go ahead and sleep," Jack whispered.

Daniel's eyes slid close. It wasn't long before his breathing evened and grew heavy. At the first snore, Jack sighed softly and slipped free from Daniel's side. He rolled off the bed smoothly, not worrying that he would wake Daniel. After a good orgasm, the sonic boom of a squadron of F-16s wouldn't wake Daniel.

Jack bent and collected clothing from the floor, frowning at the torn items. He had been serious about having to sew all those things. They didn't possess much as it was to be wasting clothing. Jack was the ships seamstress, possessing needles, thread and skills. It amazed Jack how his boat load of kids, between the lot of them, hadn't even known how to sew a button on correctly. Vala was the only one who could make a decent stitch.

Jack put the damaged clothing off to a side pile on Daniel's desk chair and put the rest in a laundry basket that sat next to the bathroom door. Jack then entered the restroom.

He stopped before the mirror looking at himself again, and what he saw now unnerved him. He stopped transfixed, looking at the face that Daniel had gazed at in wonder. He knew this guy just like he knew the guy in that picture Daniel was using as a book mark. He knew this guy pretty well, too. This was the guy who would spend 18 weeks in special ops training and spend an addition nine weeks in special combat ops training and then would be deployed to Iraq. This was the kid his training CO had called 'wiseguy', and was good at silencing scouts on the quiet. This was the guy who killed three men on a dark desert night without firing a single shot.

This was the guy who got captured after another man with them inadvertently gave their position away by farting. Of all the things, one fart and he and five others were POWs. The irony was still slightly unsettling. After all that training, it came down to one weak moment of a body passing gas. It got real ugly from there.

The Iraqi's barely had enough to feed themselves, let alone their prisoners. Hunger, deprivation and desperation made men very ugly. They were not kind captors at all and they took out their frustrations thoroughly on their charges. And they had a mountain of frustration, between the demands and the supply shortages from the cruel regime that commanded them to an enemy that came like flies with better tool, better equipment, fresher water, abundant food, and cocky western attitude.

That was when this guy, the guy Jack saw in the mirror, learned that the crap they told him about in that first special ops training seminar wasn't bullshit. Oh, he had thought he was ready; he knew about everything that could be coming at him, but one never knew how one will deal with a reality until one is dealing with a reality. Rape was taken out of the abstract for this guy, this Jack O'Neill. The lesson still burned with in the Jack O'Neill that existed in the here and now behind that pretty young face.

Jack cringed as the memory struck him: "Jamil gholam", beautiful boy. It was what the Iraqi commander called him when he was balls deep within his resisting body. The commander's men would hold him down; it took four of them. They would stretch him across a table top on his chest and stomach, his hips over the edge. His legs would be spread wide by cruel kicks. He would be beaten until he was nearly unconscious, to help keep him subdued. Colonel Rashid al-Sa'id was never gentle. The lubricant was merely for his own comfort, not for Jack's. Also, the man was never quick. He enjoyed himself, and it shocked and sickened most of the prisoners (and, undoubtedly, some of his own men), as they had always believed that the religion strongly proscribed such sexual contact.

He liked a certain few boys the best, and Jack was one of his favorites. He guessed he could have counted himself lucky to be a favorite. The favorites were protected from the repeated gang rapes and beatings by other guards. When he wanted them, al-Sa'id would line up his favorites and pick the one he wanted. A single protest could buy you a bullet to the back of your head. Three guys had gone out that way.

al-Sa'id had pet names for each of them, and Jack was "Jamil gholam." Jack felt a little queasy as he remembered how the man would purr the name at him as he stroked his hips. He would laugh softly, a lover's teasing chuckle, and Jack would squeeze his eyes shut from the torn red haze of his own fury. He had refused to be humiliated, but the fact that the man had been practically loving him, caressing his body and whispering endearments had made Jack stomach roll in revulsion. He had not wanted the foul beast above him loving him. Fuck him if he though he must to try and break him, but, god sakes, don't love him. Don't make that sick parody of passion. It had been so very wrong.

Jack felt sick. His gut clenched and he sat down on the toilet bowl, reaching for the bathroom trashcan. He retched hard a few times, but fortunately nothing came up. His queasiness doubled momentarily as his stomach's hard contractions cause him to push. Some of Daniel's come expelled from him, landing in the toilet water with a loud plop. He fought the fresh wave of nausea.

Jack sat there for a while, getting a grip on himself so that he could face that face in the mirror again. After all, it was only him. He had lived through so much more. He stood, turning to the shower and avoiding the inevitable glance in the mirror. Jack turned the water on as hot as he could stand it.  
~*~

Daniel napped for a while and woke hungry. He stretched in the bed, wondering where Jack had gone. There was no noise in the room, but he could feel the extra humidity and smell the soap. Jack had taken a shower but was gone from the room now. Daniel was a little disappointed. He had wanted to gaze into Jack's beautiful eyes again and stroke his smooth, warm skin. His 'pretty', made flesh and bone.

And Jack had been so very pretty in their bed. Of course, Daniel would never tell Jack that… not in so many words. When Jack had mounted Daniel so agilely and rode him with wild abandonment, Daniel was certain that there was no greater thrill in any reality or plane of existence.

And to watch Jack's face, when his brown eyes became dreamy and soft, slowly going half-lidded, and when he would roll his tongue and bite it lightly while arching his neck, it was more than Daniel ever imagined. He knew he had seen his older Jack do all these same things, but there was just something different in the actions and how they translated to him. Older Jack did it, it was sweet but rough, overlaid with the jaded nature of a man who been around the block more than twice. When a younger Jack did it, it was pure sex from a wanton and perfect young satyr of mythology.

Daniel scratched himself where the dried semen lay tightening his skin. Jack's semen. Daniel smiled at the thought. He could almost never get Jack to ride him like that. In fact, he rarely got anything more than a lazy hand job out of the man on some nights. They didn't make love a lot. That would just be too exhausting for the both of them.

Daniel yawned and stretched again. He wondered if he lay there long enough, if Jack would just come back with food. It would not have been the first time that had happened. He wondered where his 'pretty' had gone off to, but feeling far too content and fucked to boneless satisfaction, Daniel decided to snooze a little while longer.

A short while later, he woke up again, remembering something crucial. He pulled on sweat pants and a tee shirt and went back to his small desk and to his translations already in progress, forgetting about being hungry.  
~*~

It was nearly time for his shift to end, which was peachy for Cam. Sam was cooking tonight and Sam was the best cook on the ship…. Well, at least she and the general ran a close race in cooking. Teal'c wasn't bad at it either when he wasn't experimenting.

Sitting relaxed at the main console, ear phones plugged into the ship's communications console, which he found he could use as an mp3 player, his feet up on the long range sensors, Cam sang along with the Counting Crows "Mr. Jones." He wasn't sure when General O'Neill entered the bridge. He only knew that he looked over during the chorus after the first two verses and saw he was not alone. Cam sat up quickly.

"Sir?" he said as he whipped off the ear phones.

Cam was used to the general in the copilot chair. Sometimes he would come to chat with him during his shift and they would talk about anything: cars, sports, fishing… not that Cam did a lot of fishing, but he did more than everyone else on the boat besides the general.

What he saw next to him made him blink a few times. It was going to take some getting use to, seeing that youthful profile instead of the frowning, gray-haired man with a fleshy, lined face and slight jowls.

"What'd ya listening to?"

"Huh?" Cam blinked again and realized he was staring. He turned back to frown at his ear phones as if it was at fault. "Oh, Counting Crows, sir."

"Hm," the general grunted with a nod. Cam wondered if he knew who the Counting Crows were.

"Um…."

"Don't even go there," the general warned. "Just because I'm older than you, doesn't mean I don't know who the Counting Crows are."

Cam chuckled… well, no, to be truthful, he giggled and looked over at the general. "You don't look older than me, sir. In fact, you look kinda younger."

"Hm," the general grunted again with a slight nod and then looked thoughtful. His brow creased with a line that Cam remembered before on the man as a permanent fixture to his facial landscape.

The frown didn't deepen the jowls. The Narrowed eyes didn't double crease the crow's-feet. The man was too damn pretty. Cam had always thought of the general as a very handsome, well-preserved man for his age. Now, he knew why. He had been stupidly pretty in his youth. And now he was again.

A sarcophagus that took years off, a fountain of youth in a marble box, it was every human's dream. Forever young. Cam wondered if he could take a turn in the box. He really wanted to be twenty-one again. That had been a very good age.

"Twenty-eight," the general said unexpectedly, and Cam blinked at him.

"I remember looking like this at twenty eight. Means the sarcophagus shaved about twenty-five years." The general shrugged. "Give or take a year. I don't know." He then looked Cam directly in the eye. "Does it bug you?"

Cam's eyes widened as he thought about the question. "Um… No, sir… I don't think it does… really… that is…. I'd like a shot at the box, of course. Twenty-one was a great year for me personally, but if that thing is pre-set at knocking of twenty-five years, that would make me fifteen, and fifteen sucked like hell and… I don't know."

The general snorted a laugh, his brown eyes twinkling in a manner that before would have struck Cam as kind wisdom, but now, in that youthful face, seemed like smug disregard. Cam frowned, wondering if it had been disregard and condescension all along in the general's amused smirks.

"Vala and Sam are 'freaked out'," the general explained, setting the term aside by his tone and by gestured quotation marks.

Cam nodded slowly, looking at him. "Yes, sir, it's different."

"Daniel seems to believe that the absence of a mullet excludes me from looking like MacGyver."

Cam nodded again. They were both silent for a minute. At last Cam spoke, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"You ever have a mullet?"

"Huh?" the general blinked at him.

"The hair."

"Good God, no!" General O'Neill frowned. "When those things were in style, I was going through flight school. No one wore one of those sissy, Duran Duran hairdos and walked out of the dorms alive and able to sing baritone."

"Yeah," Cam agreed with a grim smile. The Air Force was probably the most lenient branch of the military when it came to hair, but they had their limits.

"Now ask me if I liked Duran Duran," the general drawled in a complacent tone that Cam knew meant no good. So, he merely turned a skeptical gaze the general's way, raising an eyebrow slowly for the best comic effect.  
~*~

When he returned to the room, Daniel was asleep but no longer in the bed. He was sitting at his little desk with his head propped on both of his fists. He was snoring.

Daniel had not come to supper; so Carter had armed Jack with a chicken salad sandwich and a double chocolate chip brownie that he was to make Daniel eat, by brute force if necessary. Carter worried over Daniel like a big sister should. Unable to ease his suffering, she often sought to compensate the only way she knew how: cookies, brownies, and other edibles were all she could otherwise offer. Never mind that chocolate was such an extremely rare commodity.

Jack sat the food on the table near Daniel's head, but the man did not stir at all. It was common for Daniel to work himself to exhaustion. Jack was very used to it. He had delayed his return to their rooms purposely, engaging Vala and Cam in just one more game of Minnesota Hold-em, which was something like Texas Hold-em but you have to make the hand out of three of five cards. Once he taught Vala, he couldn't beat her. She was just uncanny like that. Cam was just along for the ride. He was obviously amused.

First Daniel's nose twitched, and Jack knew it was from the smell of chocolate. Jack couldn't help but smile as he watched Daniel wake up to the rich smell. There was a blink, then a yawn and a frown. Daniel sat up, straightened his glasses on his nose, and looked up at Jack. He then looked down at the food.

"Oh…"

"You didn't come down to dinner," Jack explained. "Carter was worried."

"I just thought of something…" his sentence trickled off as he looked thoughtful and Jack noted the intensity of the crease between his brows.

"Stop thinking for a little bit, Daniel," Jack said as he nudged the food closer to him.

Daniel looked down, his frown intensifying. "I need to apologize… to you… to everyone." He looked up, his face set in that determined expression Jack recognized so well. "I let my… my fears carry me, and I guess I lost touch… a bit. And I know that it's not an excuse, but, Jack, I…." He faltered.

Jack started to say something, to stop him, to reassure him, but Daniel held up his hand to forestall Jack's words.

"No, I know, Jack," he said firmly. "I know you know and Sam knows and Vala knows and Teal'c knows, and I'm truly shocked that Cam knows… I've spent a life time watching people I love die in really traumatizing ways." He snorted a bit with humorless irony. "Every time, I feel a little piece of me die, too. Sometimes… sometimes I feel like a jigsaw puzzle that keeps losing pieces. If I lose any more, I won't be able to recognize the picture that should be me.

"It's not your fault, and there is nothing you or anyone can do to make it better. You know, for so long, I prided myself on my self sufficiency. I fooled myself into believing that I could get by with just the minimal pieces of that jigsaw puzzle. I was just as surprised as anyone else what an absolute basket case I can be when one piece too many drops out.

"I'm sorry, Jack." He looked Jack directly in the eyes as he said this part. "Forcing you to live for me is wrong and stupid and foolish and…"

"Human," Jack said softly, taking one of Daniel's errant, gesticulating hands. He pulled him up from the chair. He pulled Daniel into a gentle but firm hug. Daniel laid his head on Jack shoulder. Jack felt a soft sigh ghost across his neck. He held him for a bit longer, feeling him slowly relaxing again. Jack released him.

"Now eat, or I'll report you to Carter."

Daniel smiled briefly. "Now that's a threat!"


	4. Chapter 4

Jack watched Daniel eat. He let Daniel ramble at him about what he found in the Goa'uld's palace. Daniel seemed to believe there was some sort of consortium of Goa'uld over the technology in the place. Daniel could only guess that the other pieces, whatever they were, had been evacuated long ago. It was his belief that the sarcophagus was possibly the only major piece left, but he needed time to translate the data and look over some of the other pieces they brought away from the palace.

Jack listened with half an ear, as he often did when Daniel went into full lecture mode. Daniel had never quite caught on to the concept of 'briefing.' The point was to keep it brief; just the pertinent facts and implications. However, all things being considered, Jack could let Daniel ramble if it took his mind off the other situation for a while. Also, it actually gave Jack a good chance to think.

Up to this point, he wasn't really looking at the 'big picture.' Yes, he was aware that he was at least physically twenty-five years younger than he was when he woke up that morning. He was also aware of how disruptive the whole situation had been on everyone. Cam seemed nervous and unsure around him. Carter nearly jumped out of her skin when she looked at him. Vala was… well, she was Vala, and that was fine. Teal'c took it in his stride, and that was to be expected.

But Jack remembered the wonder and awe in Daniel's eyes as they made love, and for a minute, he felt sick at heart. He frowned slightly when the only way he could explain it to himself was that he was basically jealous of himself.

Daniel probably thought Jack was frowning while mulling over one of his points in his lecture, and so continued uninterrupted.

Yes, it was deeply disturbing, and Jack really didn't know why. A part of him considered that the feelings were irrational and unjustifiable. Yet they persisted, as did that sick feeling that made his mouth dry and the core of him ache annoyingly. He had known that feeling before. The most notable time was when the courier for Sara's lawyer served him divorce papers.

However, other than that, was his own reaction when he looked at himself. He shivered internally as he recoiled from the memory. As annoying as it seemed to be, looking at the young bastard in the mirror sucked worse than anything Jack could ever imagine. That was purely amazing, and if Jack had cared to know more about psychology, he could have probably named the reasons why.

It should have been a no-brainer: younger = Yay! Apparently, it was far more complicated than that.

When Daniel's oration began to be punctuated by hastily stifled yawns, Jack decided to put an end to it. That was always easier said than done. In the past, Jack could have just walked away. It wasn't so easy now that they shared a room. Jack had several techniques he had perfected over time to rectify the situation. He used one that he knew was not as effective, but still received a pleasant response when Daniel realized Jack's intentions where actually to shut him up.

Jack stood from his seat on the bed and went to stand next to Daniel. Daniel stuttered to a halt in his diatribe as soon as Jack's hands began a deep, soothing massage on his tight shoulder muscles.

"Ahhhh!"

That was much better, Jack thought as he continued. "Time for bed," he said softly, bending over Daniel to let his breath ghost across the back of Daniel's neck.

"You're just trying to shut me up," Daniel shot him a suspicious glance over his shoulder.

Jack didn't stop in his massage. "Maybe. But it is time for bed." Jack smiled when he heard Daniel's exasperated sigh.

"I'm fine, really," said Daniel.

"Mm-hm. Lights out in five minutes."

"Jack."

"What? Will it kill ya to give it a rest, Daniel? You're exhausted. We've had a sonovabitch day," Jack exclaimed at Daniel's protest.

Without another word, Daniel rose; lifting the tee-shirt he had thrown on over his head, and headed for their tiny bathroom. Jack made an exaggerated sigh of relief in his direction, and Daniel shot him a scathing look over his shoulder that did not hold. It was too quickly taken by a smile, and Jack smiled back.

When Daniel came back, Jack noted the slumping posture and look of pure exhaustion on him. It was way past bed time for his favorite Ph.D. Daniel laid down as Jack went into the restroom.

Jack, having taken his shower earlier, came back out much sooner. But, even so, Daniel was already turned on his side and snoring. Jack smiled as he sat next to him on the bed, looking him over.

"You think too much," Jack whispered as he looked at Daniel's brow, creased even in sleep. He looked like he always did when he was concentrating on a problem, only his eyes were closed. His lips parted slightly as he sucked in a snoring breath.

"We gotta get you some more Claritin D." Jack smoothed a hand through Daniel's tousled hair. His hand paused for a moment as Jack spied a gray hair. Then he noticed several more. In fact, Daniel's hair was peppered with thin gray hairs, only just noticeable when a person was close enough.

Jack sighed, taking his hand from Daniel's hair. He got up from the bed and gathered his basket of clothing to be mended. He grabbed his sewing kit from the bedside table drawer and headed out of their room.  
~*~

Jack found the galley common table solely occupied by Vala who was sitting holding a book in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. Jack peered around her hand to read the title of the book.

"The Essentials of Arabic Grammar?" Jack frowned at her.

Vala plopped the book down on the table. "It's the one language that four people on this boat are practically fluent in other than standard. And Teal'c knows enough to understand what you and Daniel grumble at each other when you think no one is listening. I hate being left out."

Jack smirked. "I think you just want to eavesdrop when Daniel and I are getting busy."

Vala smirked back. "And why not?"

Jack had to laugh. It was a sort of unspoken competition between them to see who could get his or her sex partner to scream the loudest. To be honest, Jack knew he was losing by a country mile. He just didn't have the stamina any more to keep it up… Well, at least he hadn't had the stamina until now. As he thought about it, he knew he could now give Vala a serious run for her money. But he had to wonder what she did two nights ago to make Mitchell's voice go up a whole octave.

Jack placed the sewing kit on the table between them and threw a ripped pair of pants her way along with patch material. "Make yourself useful."

She picked up the pants and the material with a quick grin at Jack. Jack really liked Vala. The girl had nerve, and Jack could respect that. Grammy O'Neill would have said that she had plenty of gumption. His father, on the other hand, would have said that she had solid brass balls.

Jack liked her because she was a survivor. She had learned to live his assessing technique of what-do-I-have-and-what-do-I-need. It was instinct to her. She was on this ship not just because Daniel saw something he could trust, but because Jack saw something that he could respect. The girl had depths that she liked to keep to herself. It was a second nature and self-preservation. In that respect, Jack saw a kindred spirit.

"You do realize that you are kinda cute that way," Vala said, never looking up from the needle she was threading.

"Yeah, well, take a picture. I'm not staying this way."

Vala giggled, looking at him. "You're gonna look that way longer than I'll look this way." Then she frowned as if she realized the implications of her own words.

Jack snatched the needle from her hand. Using a small tin threader, he quickly threaded the needle and stuck it in the material before her.

"Nope," he said. "Soon as we hit In'takra... That thing did this to me. I want it undone."

Vala gaped at him, utterly stunned. "Wha-- You're joking, right?"

"Why should I be?"

"Bu… You…." Vala shook her head and dropped her hands to the table defeated.

Jack applied himself to mending the ripped shirt before him as he spoke. "I don't know if you have noticed this or not, but I'm the leader around here?" He did glance up to see Vala nod in agreement, but he continued. "Now, a leader needs a lot of things: respect, command, confidence… those are just a few. I'm sensing here that some of those things have been shaken by my team looking over at me and seeing a kid at the point."

"That's not it," Vala said flatly.

Jack looked her in the eye. She was about to call his bluff. He just knew it. She was too good. They were too much alike in many aspects.

"It's not that Sam and I are a little 'freaked out.' It's not because Cam doesn't know what to say to you…. It's not even Daniel," she added softly. She didn't ask the important question of 'what is it?' but it still hung in the air between them.

"Fuck," Jack looked away and muttered to himself. He looked back over at her. She was looking at him with that patented 'Vala's nobody's fool' look.

"I can't get upset when Daniel loses it sometimes," Jack began. "He's got nothin' on me in the crazy department."

"Daniel has issues," Vala pointed out very bluntly.

"Who on this boat doesn't?" Jack countered.

"But I'm right," she said. "It's not his issues."

"No. Damn, I don't want to think about this crap." Jack groused.

Vala sat the sewing aside, leaning her chin on her hands and looked at Jack with an intense expression that he had come to recognize as her 'I'm listening' look.

Jack sighed as he tried to gather his thoughts into something more coherent than "me so scary looking!" Then he had to chuckle at himself. This was Vala. She would understand if he did it as performance art using pancake batter and a feather boa. He wasn't fond of spilling personal shit on people, especially the female members of his team. In fact, he would rather endure root canal without Novocain. But Vala was different. There was just something about her. . They understood each other.

"Okay, kiddo. Imagine this. You've been through the 'School of Hard Knocks,' so I know you can. Imagine the worst time of your life. Can you see it?"

Vala cringed and made a face. "Do I have to?"

"Yeah," Jack informed her. "Doesn't work unless you do."

"Okay then," she said.

"Now, do you remember just how you looked?"

Vala looked thoughtful, her eyes looking up and to the right as she tried to imagine herself in her own past.

"Come on, champ," Jack encouraged. "Really *see* yourself. Not just the clothes you were wearing and the hairdo of the day. See yourself."

She frowned and looked back at him. "I have to admit, I can't… not completely, I mean. I could see the clothing and the hair, but I couldn't completely pull me into the picture."

"Okay, kiddo. You're on the right page. Now, imagine if you could see yourself as you were back then. Imagine it wasn't just in your memory but in the mirror. Imagine seeing that and having it triggers everything about that time in your life that sucked royally. You know, like smelling something can trigger a memory. Imagine looking in the mirror and being reminded of shit you'd hoped you'd never think about again. Ever. EVER!"

Vala nodded. "I see your point."

"I thought you would."

They both picked up their sewing again.

"That's awful," Vala said after a few stitches.

"Ya think? Sucks to be me right now," Jack conceded.

"So you are going to see if they can make the sarcophagus give you back your age?"

"Got a better idea?"

"Ooo! What did Sam call that cosmetic surgery…. Facelift? Nose job?"

Jack scowled.

"Okay, no," she said quickly. She then pouted. "Why must you be so difficult? I mean… outward appearances aside, you have your youth back! I heard what you said to Teal'c back in the palace. Your knees didn't hurt." She stopped, looking him in the eyes. "You're young."

Jack nodded as he understood the idea of a wish come true in her eyes, but he also remember the proverb of being careful of what one wished for. Wishes could easily turn into curses. Jack had to admit it to himself; perhaps Daniel had issues, but Jack had a few of his own. Daniel wanted Jack to live for him.

Jack could not imagine watching Daniel grow old and die before him. Yet, he knew he was already. Daniel was in his forties. His hair was graying. His sight was getting poorer. The flesh on his neck was just a little looser. The crease in his brow was becoming permanent. There were fine lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes. Despite the constant weight training with Teal'c, he was thickening ever so slightly at the waist.

"I'd rather be old." With Daniel.

Vala closed her mouth and studied him carefully with sympathetic eyes, but Jack doubted if she would understand him this time. But then she looked away for a moment and spoke very softly. "If something were to happen… and I found out that I was going to out live Cam…. I… I don't think I'd be too happy about that."

Maybe she did understand. Maybe she really was his kindred spirit.

"You probably will out live him, Kiddo."

"Yeah, but I don't want to know… for certain. You know…"

"Yeah, I know."

Vala smiled at him. "So if you don't mind, I think I will take a picture. You are really cute like this."

Jack shot her his best cheesy grin.

"Oh, but you have to be naked," she added.

"Yeahsureyoubetcha!"

They grinned identical grins at each other.  
~*~

The next morning, just after breakfast, Jack cornered Carter in the forward engine room as she looked over the life support motherboard. He didn't mince words or waste any time. He asked her succinctly if she thought that the sarcophagus could be made to give him back his age.

Carter's mouth dropped open for only a minute, but then she frowned. She looked troubled as she walked away from him. She never gave him an answer. That seemed a bit uncharacteristic of her in Jack's book. She would never have just walked away from a superior officer after he had asked her a direct question. Regardless of the fact that the US Air Force no longer existed, and the fact that their designation of rank within the resistance movement was only an agreed upon convention, Colonel Samantha Carter had always respected her commanding officer.

Jack caught sight of himself in the mirror later that same day and began to understand some of the reasons why Sam had walked away.

"Punk," he muttered at the reflection; then walked away quickly before the memories could return.

Just after dinner, Carter approached him while he was alone on the bridge of the ship covering a snack and coffee break for Mitchell.

"I think it can be done, sir," she said simply.

Jack looked at her expressionlessly.

"It would be very tricky, but I assume there is a preset to the matrix of the machine that can be accessed so that once we change the polarity of the field, it can be stopped at a desired frame point."

"Okay." He didn't understand any of that, and he was certain that he really didn't need to.

"If we leave the field polarity at a reversed set point and don't change the timing of the matrix, the results could be unpleasant."

"Unpleasant, as in?"

"Dead… possibly dust."

"Good to know." Jack's eyebrows rose at her explanation.

That evening, laying beside Daniel in the dark, listening to him start his buzz saw snore, Jack revised his earlier decision about Carter's reaction. It hadn't been disrespect. It had been severe shock. Given the chance to calm down and think, Carter had supplied an answer.

Jack knew more than ever that he had to get back to the old man he had been.  
~*~

"Why, Jack?"

Daniel stared at him, his bright china-doll eyes huge and pleading. Jack resisted the urge to just shrug. Instead he stood and went the small toggle switch on the wall near the foot of their bed. It was the door release to their wardrobe. Just inside was a large wooden chest of drawers. Jack pulled open the top drawer and pulled out a bottle of Jim Beam. It was the only liquor they had left until they next re-supplied at Heath Station. Jack grabbed a pair of orange plastic tumblers that were sitting on top of the chest and came back over to sit with Daniel on the bed.

Handing Daniel a tumbler, Jack had to wonder which one of the girls told Daniel first. It just had to be Carter. Jack could just picture it. Carter stumbled away from Jack's question yesterday morning and went straight to Daniel with that damn deer-in-the-headlights look plastered all over her one-eyed expression. Jack poured.

"This is gonna take a lot of time and a lot of liquor to explain."

"Jack." Daniel frowned.

"Well, at least a fair amount of liquor," Jack amended.

"I don't understand. You have…"

"Aht." Jack raised a finger to Daniel's lips, stopping the flow of words before they could drown him. Daniel had a way of talking circles around Jack until he was floundering on his own weakening resolve, until the only recourse he had left was to walk away.

"Just listen for once, will ya?" Jack said, but the softness of his tone took the sting out of his words. Jack let his fingers linger on Daniel's lips, tracing their fullness, even as his eyes were drawn to the fine lines at the corners of his mouth.

"You look at me," Jack said softly. "I know what you see. I don't get to see that…. It's all fucked up, Daniel." Jack took a large swallow of bourbon. His other hand fell back to his lap as he looked into his tumbler. "You know what I see?"

Jack looked over at Daniel who was still looking at him. Jack sighed.

"It's not the me I'm comfortable with."

"I'm not sure I understand you, Jack."

"I'm not surprised." He began to roll the tumbler between his hands as he talked. "I'm a pretty fucked up piece of work, Danny. When you found me, I was just about as sick of myself as any man could be. I looked in the mirror and hated who I saw."

"I love you," Daniel whispered.

"I know," Jack replied just as softly, his eyes closing for a moment as he absorbed the full meaning behind those words. "I know. That's what saved me long ago. And I love you and respect you like no one else in this whole damn universe. I'd die for you, and I've told people as much." Jack had to wonder silently why living for him was so much harder.

"I'm not good at dealing with the tough emotional shit, you know that." He squinted uncomfortably at Daniel. "I'm one of those stupid guys who'd rather try performing a self lobotomy with a butter knife than talk about what's eating him up inside. But, some how, you've made it easier… I don't know… we… we're special and different together, and I'm not so afraid any more.

"But there's a lot of junk inside me; junk I just don't want to deal with. It's over and gone and past. I don't want to be reminded."

Daniel smiled slightly at that. "You have always had an avoidance streak."

"It's how I deal," Jack said. "I suppose it's not the healthiest of ways, but it works for me."

Daniel touched his face tenderly, running his fingers along his cheek and jaw line. "This face reminds you of something bad."

"Really bad," Jack nodded. "And in a couple more years, it'll remind me of something much worse."

"You are not that man any more."

"I know," Jack said defeated and feeling like a complete idiot. He stood abruptly and took a few steps away from Daniel, stopping at the desk. He sat his drink down, but he did not turn back to Daniel. "I'm not… but I never stopped… hating that… me. I've learned how to be fine with me again. I liked the me I am… was…. Ah, the old guy me…. Yeah, so I complained about the gray hair and baggy skin, but that me was really comfortable. That me had some really nice stuff going on in his head, even though his life around him went to crap."

Jack turned back to Daniel, who stood reaching for him. Jack took Daniel's hands in his own.

"I wanna get back to that me."

"Jack."

"That's the best way I can explain this."

They looked in each other's eyes, and Jack could see it in Daniel's expression. Daniel's lips pressed together as his brow creased deeper. He didn't like it, but he would abide by Jack's decision.

"You'll still love me when I'm an old fart again?" Jack asked, feeling uncharacteristically shy for the moment.

Daniel laughed softly. "I'll love you for eternity. I think you know that."

Jack did know that. Daniel loved for eternity, and Jack was in good company with Sha're.

Jack reached up and touched Daniel's face. "You came for me. I was alone in that stinking cell…"

It was still hard for Jack to talk about what had happened in Ba'al's prison. It was one of those memories he rather wished he could forget, but he couldn't forget the fact that Daniel came to him, wanting to take him away, to escape away to that other plane of existence with him.

"I'll always come for you," Daniel said softly as he folded Jack into his arms.

Jack chuckled lightly. "You did a mighty fine job of it the other night."

"Jack!"  
~*~

200 hours out from In'takra. Jack decided to make those 200 hours of youth as much fun as possible. First, he swore off mirrors.

He got quite the rise out of some folk when he and Vala were caught in the main cargo hold doing a beefcake photo shoot. Mitchell wanted to yell, but, instead, looked at them with his eyes bulging from his head. Teal'c actually gave a very quick chuckle. Daniel just snatched back his camera and stomped off muttering about them wearing out his last perfectly good memory stick.

Next, he decided to really give Vala a run for her money in that sex-um-up competition. He tried to make Daniel squeal like a girl, but he settled for a shout for mercy in three different languages. The unfortunate part was that after that one night of non-stop headboard knocking, Daniel wanted nothing to do with sex for a full two days after. He even seemed to be holding his coffee cup between himself and Jack as a shield.

He spent some time sparring with Teal'c and Mitchell. He held his own great with Teal'c, but, for the first time in a long time, he mopped the deck with Mitchell. He introduced Mitchell to some Krav Maga moves he learned in special ops; then he introduced Mitchell's face to the cargo hold floor… several times. To Mitchell's credit, he took it very well. That just raised Jack's esteem for the poor boy. But Jack couldn't help gloating a little. He could not have done that in his previous body.

He had to admit, it was fun wearing the loose tank top and tight jeans around the ship, feeling eyes all over him. Carter tried to hide it, but Vala was blatant and Daniel just didn't give a damn. He practically gawked. Jack would smirk when Daniel would bite his lip and turn away, moving awkwardly as he tried to surreptitiously adjust his fly. Even Mitchell sneaked a few peeks.

36 hours out from In'takra and Teal'c said, "You have become insufferably vain, O'Neill."

"Don't worry, big guy," Jack said with a happy smile. "It's a phase. I'm sure it will work itself out."

Teal'c's eyebrow rose skeptically. "Indeed."

Jack rocked smugly on his feet. "Hey, where's Carter?" He wanted to see how uncomfortable he could make his 2IC before she gave in and baked cookies.

"I believe she said something about throwing your 'annoying gray wife-beater' into the reactor core."

"She wouldn't."

"She had the garment in her hand and was on her way to the engine room."

"Damn!" Jack turned and all but sprinted off to engineering. Before he had left, he was sure Teal'c had had that quietly pleased look on his face that he sometimes got.

10 hours out from In'takra and Daniel gave him the most spectacular blow job of his life, and then gently pleaded with him not to go through with it, just because of the risk alone. Jack could have argued but for once he chose not to say anything. He just held Daniel, stroking his back and carding his fingers through his hair. Jack's inner general had already given 'team Jack' a go.  
~*~*


	5. Chapter 5

In'takra did not have a stargate. Being a backwater planet without a stargate was an advantage for the In'takrans. They were yet to be visited by the Ori. However, the lack of a stargate did not make them completely safe. The low pressure atmosphere with a high nitrogen content however, helped quite a bit. The inhabitance of In'takra lived in pressure domes, their air manufactured in hydro-ozonation plants that turned O3 into O2 and water. That was mixed correctly with nitrogen and stable gases to create a breathable air system. There was a strong Tok'ra presence there.

The planet had been a mining colony for the System Lord Yu, and it had been one of his better accomplishments before sarcophagus madness proved fatal. Without a stargate, and with a hostile atmosphere, the planet was secure from rivals who preferred the path (planets) of least resistance. But the planet was rich in many valuable building ores. After all, the Goa'uld could not exist on naquada alone.

The actual In'takrans were nothing more than Yu's emancipated slaves, hailing from planets all over the dead System Lord's territory. They lived in two multi domed cities on separate continents on the planet: Mai and Yan. Mai was the larger of the two cities, and sort of the unofficial capital. It was also one of the main strongholds of the resistance.

Der Fliegende Holländer was directed to landing dock 12 on the east end of the city, Mai. A large docking boom practically plucked them out of the bright orange sky as Mitchell hovered their ship close enough. The boom brought them carefully to a docking sleeve that covered the cargo hold airlock. The pressure between the two stabilized with a large rumbling hiss.

Paul Davis/Ontar was waiting just beyond the docking sleeve doors. Jack had to admit to himself that it was good to see the man. Out of all the pentagon paper-pushers and bean counters, Paul Davis seemed the most human. He had been with Jack on the Alpha Site when the Earth had been attacked. He had been there as part of some budget oversight for the IOA. Jack had been happy just to not have been strapped with Woolsey again. Davis had had a far better eye for the internal workings of the SGC than that little weasel Woolsey had.

To Davis' credit, only a slight lifting of one eyebrow was his reaction to Jack's appearance.

"Mitchell warned me of your… condition," Davis said. Fortunately, like Selmak, Ontar preferred that Davis spoke to and related with the humans. Whether this was from some sort of Tok'ra discomfort or from deference to Davis' own personal relationships, Jack didn't know.

Jack smirked at the man as he approached. "Wish ya were me, too?"

"Not exactly," Davis said, with a slight smile as they turned to advance into the dock. Teal'c was directing the dock workers to the cargo. Sam stayed close to their main prize.

"If the Goa'uld left the thing, it probably didn't work the way they wanted it to," Davis explained.

Jack stopped, turning to look Davis over. "And what does that mean exactly?"

"Well, according to Ontar, you may have damage to your DNA on a molecular or even a sub-atomic level. What that exactly means, I couldn't tell you. Ontar probably could. Shall I ask him to explain?"

"Skip it." Jack waved Davis off from the explanation. "Does he know how to find out if I'm… damaged?"

"Yes," Davis said readily. "He'd like to get you to a scan right away anyhow. Scanning you will be part of the key of finding how the sarcophagus works."

"Great. From Goa'uld guinea pig to Tok'ra guinea pig." Jack rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, general," Davis said. "You know it's for your own good."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Davis looked away with a smile. "No sir, it doesn't."

They started towards the main dock again, Daniel and Vala fell in step behind them. Teal'c, Cam, and Sam continued to organize the disembarking cargo.  
~*~

"This is interesting." The voice that came out of Paul Davis' mouth was not Paul Davis. Its strange alien resonance did not surprise Jack. He was use to the snake-talk. Jack sat up on the metal exam table that he had been laying on. Over him was a number of dangling metal instruments that would have made him uneasy in another setting. Well, actually, they made him uneasy, even in this setting. However, he wasn't about to let that show just now.

"There were no alterations to your DNA. Just changes on a cellular level," Ontar said.

"And… so… therefore…" Jack looked at the Tok'ra expectantly.

"The cellular change is not entirely stable. I could foresee possible future problems. Cancers would develop over time due to the mismatch communication between cell age and DNA age."

"Sounds… ugly," Jack grimaced.

"It would not happen right away, and I suspect that it would be very treatable," Ontar added.

"Still…"

"He wants to go back to his original age," Daniel broke in to the conversation with a disapproving glare at Jack. Ontar looked at him with a frown.

"It could solve the problem of the mismatch. Nevertheless, the resultant cancers of remaining in this state, I suspect, would be an inconvenience but treatable. There are advantages to remaining this way."

"Don't want 'em," Jack said flatly.

"Interesting…," Ontar murmured, his head lowering and his eyes closing. A moment later he looked up again, but it was now Paul Davis who was speaking to them.

"Ontar is concerned," Davis said. "Reversing the process requires technology that has only been used as weapons and punishment devices. Making people old has never been a positive action."

"What about the sarcophagus," Jack asked. "It did this. Can it be made to undo it?"

Davis looked thoughtful. "I suspect Ontar and the others will examine that possibility closely while we have the sarcophagus."

"How come I have a sneaking suspicion that Ontar would rather not convert me back if he could spend more time poking around in my DNA?"

"It would be your cells," Davis said. "And I have to admit, Ontar's curiosity is roused."

"Peachy." Jack rolled his eyes again. "Just like a Tok'ra…."

"Jack," Daniel said in a grousing, cautionary tone.

Davis chuckled. "Don't worry, general. He knows better than to cross your will. You are quite the legend with the Tok'ra."

That made Jack perk up a bit with a semi-smug look. Vala grinned with him.

"You *are* a handful," she said.

"Don't you forget it, kiddo."

Daniel sighed, defeated. He walked away a few steps rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses as if he were trying to stave of a massive headache.

Davis looked as if he was intending to lean inconspicuously in Daniel's direction, but Jack still caught what he murmured Daniel's way.

"Got to keep those two separated?"  
~*~

Sam had been with the sarcophagus since it left the cargo hold. It was now in the main lab shared by several of their Tok'ra scientists. It seemed that the Tok'ra could make themselves at home just about anywhere, an adaptation that had grown out of strife and necessity.

Ontar was still examining General O'Neill, but she expected him back any moment. In the interim, she was looking over the control pedestal with the Tok'ra blended pair, Jashlin/Kendra.

"If you wish, Colonel Carter, we may start by pulling the main panel on this remote and studying how the crystals interact with the ceramic conductors." The Tok'ra looked gravely at Sam. "The polarity of the EM field generated, if any, can give us a clue as to how the power source is converted to the needed fields to cause the cell altering reaction within the unit."

Sam nodded. "Good idea."

Sam got down to work, and this was where she was truly in her element. As she and Jashlin began the tedious and delicate process of backwards engineering, Sam felt focused and assured. She barely noticed when two more assistance came in to tag and organize parts as they were brought forth. She did, however, notice when Paul Davis entered the lab.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam smiled up at him from where she squat near the base of the pedestal. "Hello, Paul." Having always been the same rank, they had learned a while ago to be on a first name bases.

"Getting any where?"

Sam stood. "As a matter of fact, yes." She wiped her hands quickly on the edge of her shirt. "We found how the crystals were aligned to produce a positive gamma radiation field. The positive spin is probably the source of the cellular regeneration. It probably literally shaves years off of cells by firming them up and causing rapid reproduction."

It was Ontar who responded. "Mitosis would not be enough to reverse cellular aging. Also, most human epithelial cells increase their rigidity with ageing. The gamma radiation would have to increase cell malleability."

"That wouldn't make sense in the radiation signatures Jashlin and I have projected from the configuration," Sam said as she looked over the main work station table where all the intricate bits of the remote's hardware had been laid out. "If anything, you are saying it should age cells."

"I cannot see how the spin could affect cell regeneration if it is causing the structure to become more rigid."

"Perhaps that is not what the spin parity of radiation is doing," Jashlin joined in. "It will take time… and more test. On the other hand, what have you found from General O'Neill's condition?"

"His cells have the properties of cells much younger than his chronological age. However, his DNA remains unaffected. In fact, his DNA is still signaling the production many of the cellular proteins that only are produced in any quantity in geriatric progression."

"Does that mean that the general is aging rapidly?" Sam asked.

"No, Colonel Carter," Ontar replied. "But the DNA processes can cause problems eventually."

Sam breathed out and blinked. "The general wants to go back to his chronological age," she said.

"We were made aware of that." Ontar nodded. "Unfortunately, there maybe more to the solution than reversing the spin on subatomic particle radiation."

Sam sighed, muttering, "Back to the ol' drawing board."

Paul Davis laid a hand on her shoulder. "If you can't do it, no one can." They smiled at each other.  
~*~

Jack was out, probably conferring with the other resistance leaders currently on In'takra. Sam was out. More than likely, she would not return from the Tok'ra's engineering labs. Cam and Vala were out. Whenever they made planet-fall for more than one day, they took the opportunity to find a better bed than the short, lumpy standard issue beds in the crew cabins. Teal'c was still on board, finishing repairs that he and Sam had started before the mission began.

Daniel lay on the bed he shared with Jack. Too tired to read or write, but too restless to sleep, he lay on his back, his eyes fixed on a small stain on the ceiling. He wondered how it got there. Had it always been there?

Some things were always there, older than time and part of the very fabric of the universe. Some things were like recurring themes in history. It was human nature to repeat the themes. There was no learning from the past when it came to the emotions that drove mortal imperfection.

Love was a tricky one. It brought with it so many pitfalls and weaknesses once it was allowed to move in unhealthy directions. It was hard to steer in the murky waters of self-doubt; it was hard to tell which path led to bad love.

Daniel never doubted his own ability to get lost in his own emotions so much so that he would miss the obvious. He had done so in the past. It was easy to let the fear of loneliness and isolation carry him in directions that were not necessarily the answer to his own desperations. Isolating himself before others could leave and reject him was a life long talent that had only blossomed into something close to insanity within the recent year.

Ah, yes, Dr. Mackenzie had called that abandonment issues. Daniel closed his eyes and tried not to think about his abandonment issues. Besides, everyone goes away in the end. Nothing is guaranteed. Love can be unconditional, but it is never guaranteed.

What is love? Was the need to have, hold and possess a part of it in even the smallest way? Was that always obsession? Couldn't it just be longing?

Daniel frowned as he recalled his love life. He had been very fond of Sarah and had been impressed with her attraction to him, but he had never loved her. He had needed her even less. She had carried their relationship from beginning to end. She asked him out. She showed interest in him. She continued the momentum of the relationship until she began to realize how one-sided the situation was.

Daniel had loved Sha're, but he had never felt the doubts of love. Perhaps it was because Sha're was such an adoring and patient bride. Perhaps it was because she had been raised in a culture that placed a wife as a husband's property, and accordingly, she had deferred to Daniel, not only agreeing to him for propriety sake but also out of duty. She was the obedient wife, always looking to her husband for approval and praise. She had also been a wonderful companion, willing to speak and share. It hadn't been all peaches and cream, but it had been the closest thing to happy he had been since his parents died.

When Sha're was gone, it had just been easy to say no more love. Yes, it was easy to say, but to do? He knew he had fallen hard for Jack O'Neill the first time the man had given him that quirky half smile, that sweet little smirk that said, 'It's all good.' It was the air he breathed.

So he sat for years and let his heart be broken a thousand times as he watched the man he called friend live his life like nothing and no one mattered. And the closer Daniel got, the further Jack pushed him away until Daniel had felt he had nothing left to lose… again.

And that one little incident on Kelowna? Altruism? At the time, all Daniel could think was somewhere close by, his team, his family, was in danger if that naquadria core melted down. Jack would be in danger. That choice was easy. In fact, it had been a no-brainer.

Ascending, although difficult had also been an easy choice, as he had nowhere else to go but dead. Daniel had not been ready to explore death just yet. But he had been a fool if he thought he could escape love by ascending. His love was the tether that tied him to Abydos, the SGC, and Jack. In reality, he had never laid down his burden. He had failed in the most essential way as an ascended being. His burden was love. He returned for it time and again.

The door to the room opened, shocking Daniel out of his introspective. Jack came in, stopping just at the entrance to observe him. Daniel blinked and stared back.

"You just gonna lay there all night?" Jack asked.

"Why yes," Daniel replied smoothly. "Seemed like the thing to do when you aren't sleepy, you don't feel inclined to write or do any work, and you've read all of your books at least 150 times over."

"That's a whine."

"Not necessarily."

"Yes it is."

"No it isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't. Fuck it, Jack what does it matter?"

Jack sat down on the bed, looking Daniel over. Daniel threw an arm over his eyes and waited. He didn't know what he was waiting for. Whatever it was, it never came. He heard Jack sigh. It was a sound that was almost a snort, but Daniel, after long years of learning to interpret Jack-ese, knew it was a semi-disgusted sigh.

Maybe Jack was chagrined because Daniel wouldn't play the adolescent-argument game with him, or maybe he was perplexed by his apparent sloth. Daniel didn't know. All he knew was that a minute ago he felt lonely; now he felt completely alone. It was a truth he could not escape. They all traveled through life alone. The journey from beginning to end was their own to make. And love could not make two people one no matter what all the old fairy tales said.

He could not hold on to Jack. He could only love him while he had time to do so. Time was all they could wish for, and it would be the only gift they could receive. It was the only miracle left to them.

"Quit it." Jack's voice was quiet. Daniel peeked out from under his forearm to see Jack gazing at him intensely.

"What," Daniel sighed the word without putting the infection of a question on it.

"You are sitting there, over-thinking things again and putting yourself in that… 'whiney-Daniel' place again."

"I'm not whining."

"Not yet, but you are just itching to."

Daniel sat up and looked at Jack.

"C'mon, Daniel, for cryin' out loud! I can smell the burning martyr from one hundred paces."

"Thanks, Jack. Thanks a lot." Daniel pushed past him off the bed. "It never ceases to amaze me how you can trivialize anything I'm thinking or feeling in less than two sentences."

"Trivialize? I just call 'em like I see 'em…"

"Oh? And just what do you think you see?" Daniel fired back.

Jack folded his hands before him and looked Daniel in the eye. "I see you laying about, feeling sorry for yourself because you don't want to face the future."

Daniel stopped at those words. His mouth hung open for a moment longer than he would have liked it to as he stared at Jack. And Jack just sat there, looking so placidly at him with his bright, young eyes and his soft, unblemished skin and his perfectly pink mouth. Jack stood. He took a step towards Daniel.

"The truth is, were gonna die, Danny. Today, tomorrow, next week, six months from now, ten years from now. We really can't stop it. Twenty-eight or fifty-three. We don't get to chose."

"I know that, Jack," he said on the end of an exhausted breath. He then looked up into Jack's eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself," Jack response was automatic.

"Just hold me right now," Daniel said.

So Jack did.  
~*~

It took nine days. Sam would have considered that record time back in her lab in Cheyenne Mountain. Nine days and they had the whole sarcophagus stripped and examined. They were fairly sure how it worked. The repair and reanimation of tissue in Goa'uld technology involved the usages of three different types of electromagnetic radiation and a good amount of ion energy to break and reform bonds. The final reanimation was a full defibrillation if necessary, restarting the heart and reactivating neural currents in the brain and nervous system.

The difference in this sarcophagus was the delivery of the EM fields and the chemical enzymes introduced into the tissue chamber to breakdown the affects of aging and increase cellular malleability. The sarcophagus could only subtract age back to the point that a human reached full and complete adulthood. It could not regress tissue back past maturity. It took the general back to an age in which his body had stopped receiving post adolescence peak quantities of growth hormone. At the age of 25 through 28, the general's body had probably gone to a basal level and hit a plateau. His body was fully adult.

Ontar suggested that his endocrine system was now on a strange reset. It would probably try to continued the adult decline of growth hormone flux frequency in the same steady drop off that a human body in it's late twenties experiences. The unfortunate part was that the general's DNA was screaming that it was in its mid-fifties. The conflict did not bode well for the general as a whole.

About then was when Daniel approached the scientist with what he had discovered in translations from the tablets he collected.

"They left the sarcophagus because they viewed it as a failure," Daniel told them.

"A failure?" Sam blinked.

"I'm not sure about the technical stuff," Daniel continued. "I brought it all for you, Jashlin and Ontar to look over. What I could tell was that the sarcophagus apparently cost too much energy to run and had to be supplemented by regular sarcophagus treatments to maintain the viability of the subject's health."

"That would possibly be the conflicts of the DNA and the endocrine system that we discussed before," Ontar pointed out. "May I see your notes, Dr. Jackson?"

"Ah, yeah… sure." Daniel handed over the materials to Ontar/Paul Davis.

Ontar spoke again after glancing through Daniel's notebook on the Goa'uld data. "It appears that the Goa'uld were impatient with the results."

Sam nodded. "It probably sounded like a good idea until the secondary problems cause a greater expenditure of resources than they wanted to relinquish. In the end, it was probably just easier to take a new host."

"I agree," Ontar said as he handed Daniel's notes back. "Nevertheless, it does not necessarily mean that General O'Neill is at any great risk."

Daniel blinked, and then he frowned. "He'll experience those same cellular degeneration problems. We don't have a regular sarcophagus to fix…"

"The cancers that may result from the process, Dr. Jackson, are well within our ability to cure and manage," Ontar interjected in a slightly condescending tone.

"That may be so," Sam said pointedly, "But I doubt the general will want to be on call to the Tok'ra of Intak'ra to manage his cancer."

Ontar looked from Sam who was gazing at him expectantly, to Daniel who was almost glaring, as if he needed to be incensed for Jack in his absence. Ontar shrugged Paul's shoulders, but Paul replied.

"Ontar believes that the sarcophagus can be made to reverse its effects within reason, but he just doesn't understand why the general would want to regain age. Ontar sees the cancer risk as worth the benefit. Not only does General O'Neill get a second run at twenty-eight to fifty-three, but he also gets a great disguise for deep cover. The Ori don't know a twenty-eight year old Jack O'Neill. He could probably walk through a stargate to any of the subjugated world and not set off any alarms. He wouldn't even be a blip on their radar."

"Is that what this is about to Ontar?" Daniel asked mildly, although the frown he wore deepened. "A new way to slip in a covert operative?"

Paul Davis looked him in the eye. "Not completely. But I must admit he is intrigued by the notion."

Sam sighed and shook her head. "I don't think the general will agree to something like that."

"Believe me, Sam," Paul said apologetically. "I've already advised Ontar quite adamantly against pursuing the notion with the general."

"Will Ontar help us?" Daniel said, taking a step towards Paul Davis. "Will he make the sarcophagus reverse the effect?"

Paul Davis was quiet for far longer than considering would have made polite, and his eyes unfocused for a quite a long moment. Sam imagined that he had Ontar in the grips of an internal debate. Sam knew Paul Davis' prowess at debate. She felt slightly sorry for Ontar. He didn't stand a chance. Words and concepts were Paul Davis' best weapon.

Finally Paul took a deep breath, his eyes focusing on Sam again. "He'll do it, but he doesn't like it," he said with a slight grin.

"That is irrelevant," Jashlin/Kendra said, coming up between the two and looking from Sam to Paul. "It is General O'Neill's body. If there is a chance we can repair this damage, and it is damage, make no mistake, then we must try."

"Damage is a relative term, Jashlin," Ontar turned to argue.

"No," Daniel interjected and all eyes turned to him as if shock to realize he was still there. "No, it isn't a relative term here. Jack's body has been altered, and eventual it will hurt him, and I don't care how well you think you can manage the cancer. It's not worth it. He doesn't want to stay this way."

Ontar bowed in deference. "Please excuse my lack of considerations, Dr. Jackson. I did not mean to suggest that the general's wishes were irrelevant to this discussion. It is my wishes that are inconsequential. I can only argue my position and hope."

Sam watched Daniel as he stood tense before the resigned Tok'ra. She had seen Daniel get defensive where the general was concerned many times now, and she recognized his 'bulldog' protectiveness mode as they stood, regarding each other. Ontar was backing down gracefully. Daniel drew in a deep breath and released it. His jaw twitched slightly as he looked over the three scientists again.

Daniel pushed past the two Tok'ra to hand Sam his notes, a clear indication of where his trust stood. He then turned and walked away, leaving the lab in silence.  
~*~

Jack had never gone consciously to a sarcophagus. His experiences of them have always been waking up inside of one, wondering what the hell was going on and what would happen next.

Jack woke that morning on his side of the bed, with Daniel snoring, just inches away on his own side of the bed. That was almost normal. Daniel was not a cuddly kind of guy. After years of being on his own, he tended to shy away from contact as he slept, which was fine with Jack. Jack had a blast furnace metabolism that made him overheat too easily. Sleeping without the extra body heat in the mildly temperate room was just more comfortable.

Not too long back, after they had left sarcophagus planet, Jack had waken a few times to find Daniel's hand latched on to his nearest appendage -- usually his arm. One time, he had awakened to find Daniel gripping him fiercely, his face bunched in an expression of pure grief, even though Jack was sure Daniel was still asleep. Daniel woke up with a start and a gasp when Jack prodded him. He had then rolled over and went back to sleep without explanation.

No, this morning was status quo in the bed. Daniel was on his side and Jack was on his own side. Almost normal. Jack ran a hand over his face as he yawned. His fingers moved down smooth, flawless skin, finally going to firmly fleshed neck. Almost, but not quite normal. Jack got up.

That day, Sam said everything would be ready. So Jack rolled out of bed, went to the bathroom, didn't look in the mirror, took a long morning piss, shaved in the shower, didn't look in the mirror, brushed his teeth, and dressed for the day. Daniel woke as Jack was still brushing his teeth.

Daniel entered the bathroom as Jack exited. Daniel was showering while Jack dressed. Daniel wrapped himself damp and naked around Jack before he could leave their room.

"Ain't we a pair," Jack murmured into Daniel's dripping hair.

"Yeah," Daniel murmured in reply against Jack's shoulder.

Later that day, Jack wondered if the cellular degeneration had made mush of his brain. He had to be insane. Yet here he was, standing in front of the great marble contraption, his hands in tight fists as he listened to Carter drone on about the modifications as if he gave a damn.

He supposed that she thought that he did. After all, he was the one who asked her to make the thing change him back.

He had never gone into a sarcophagus awake. Daniel had. Daniel told him that it would anesthetize him before it began. That thought disturbed Jack more so. Giving up control to a piece of Goa'uld technology was not high on his list of things he enjoyed doing.

"Um, sir?"

Jack blinked, putting Carter back into focus as he shook himself out of his thoughts. Her brow knitted in concern, wrinkling in a small fold beneath her eye patch.

"We don't have to…"

Jack held up his hand to stop Carter. "Yes, I do," he said quietly, looking her in the eye.

Her frown only lasted a second more before she set her face in the determined look he knew so very well from his 2IC. She stepped back and out of his way.

Jack approached the long, marble box. Its long sides were etched, he noticed, engraved with graceful figures of what could have been ancient Greek ladies, in flowing chitons, bearing laurel branches and long-necked jars or amphorae. They danced about the sides of the sarcophagus, appearing intermittently between intricate designs, inlayed delicately with a thin band of gold. The ladies were progressing to a lone figure who lounged on a throne, holding a skyphos as if he were only waiting for the ladies to fill it. Fill his cup with youth, no doubt.

Jack suppressed a smile as he thought of the implications of the engravings. He was sure Daniel already understood what it meant. Jack knew a little something about ancient Greek things. When he had been a young man in high school, he had been forced to read the mythology as part of a literature class. Like most post adolescent boys, he had groaned about reading stupid old shit that he was never going to need in his real life ever again. Deep inside, in the place where Jack O'Neill could be a child free of the all-important necessity to be the coolest of the cool, he had been intrigued and entertained. He had enjoyed reading the stories and the history behind them. And he never admitted to his friends that sometimes he read them again and again.

It was easy for him now to play the ignorance card. No one wondered about what Jack knew. He really hadn't known all that much about Egyptology; so his lack had not been feigned in that area. Their job had dealt very much in that arena of mythology, giving Jack plenty of practice at being the "dumb guy" of the group. Therefore, when it came to other ancient cultures, his team just assumed that he didn't know and didn't give a rat's ass either.

Jack sighed. He let them believe, but he knew. And Daniel knew too, but he kept Jack's secret.

The sarcophagus' interior was lined with a cream colored silk that matched the ivory and gold marble of the casing, but its base was hard metal buffed to a silver-like shine. It was beautiful, but it wasn't comfortable at all as Jack recalled. He didn't know if any sarcophagus was built for comfort. But, then again, coffins were almost never built for comfort either.

Climbing in was awkward, but he slid into place, only cussing once as his elbow connected painfully with the marble edge. Carter didn't say a word. Jack settled back, looking above at the gray ceiling of the lab.

"You okay, sir?" Carter's voice seemed distant, but Jack knew she was very close.

"Yeah," Jack replied. "Let's get this over with."

"Right." Carter's voice only sounded slightly hesitant. Jack had expected that. She didn't like using the thing on him without very conclusive, repeatable test that showed that what ever modifications they did to the damned thing worked. All they had were iffy readings on probable results.

With the rumbling sound of stone moving against metal, the sarcophagus lid rolled close taking all light and sound from Jack's senses. The last sensation he remembered was a feeling moving through his body, a buzz or a tingle that was like mild electrocution.  
~*~

He awoke with a start after a loud snap. His eyes flew open as lights faded around him, and for one brief half-second in the total darkness, his heart sank in horror as he imagined Ba'al's jaffa just waiting to jerk him free from the box from hell. He took a deep breath as that feeling faded leaving only uncertainty. He remembered his life had progressed on since that time, unless it had only been a dream he experienced while dead. Then Jack smiled to himself. That was a hell of a dream. Earth was destroyed, all their allies were scattered, and they were living in a rickety old cargo ship running from the Ori: must have been a dream of Jack O'Neill's personal hell. Wait, Daniel was with him; Daniel loved him. Well, hell wasn't all that bad then.

Then the lid began to move. It rolled away with that familiar grating noise of stone against metal and Jack blinked as light invaded his little cubical of discomfort. He felt stiff all over, which only figured since he was lying on an uncushioned metal plate at the bottom of the sarcophagus. He didn't remember feeling so uncomfortable the last time he woke up in the damn box.

Two faces peered over the edge to gawk at him. Carter looked pensive and Daniel looked absolutely strung out like someone had kept him awake with coffee and the screeching noise of mating cats. His hair stuck out all over his head like he had been gripping it to keep his own head on.

"Sir?" Carter said softly.

"What?" Jack croaked out and then coughed a little to clear his throat. "What?" he asked again in a clear, stronger, more affirmatively irritable tone.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I wanna get out of this thing."

"Oh!"

Daniel and Sam reached in at the same time, bumping heads. Sam winced with a small "Ow!" while Daniel grunted but they repositioned themselves to take Jack's hands to help haul him out of the sarcophagus. Jack could have said something just then about their little maneuver, but decided against it. He really didn't have the energy and it was way too easy.

Jack came out of the sarcophagus with some effort, and stood in the gray-walled lab he had entered sometime ago. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out for. Teal'c, Vala, and Cam were all present now, as was Paul Davis and, no doubt, his buddy Ontar.

Vala said it first, looking up at him with a slow, melancholy smile. "You're you again."

Jack snorted and looked at her for a moment. "Is that a bad thing?"

She shook her head while the others echo her sentiments with softly spoken "no's"

Jack frowned. "Good. Let's get going then." He looked around at his crew, pinning his frown at each of them. "We have stuff to do."

Sam shrugged, but Teal'c nodded and turned to leave. They filed out the door casually. Jack stopped in front of Davis.

"Thanks," he said, letting his frown ease a bit.

"Thank Ontar," Davis replied. "He's the scientist."

"Naw," Jack said. "I'm thanking you. Ontar didn't want to do it. You helped him see my point of view."

Davis' lips curled in a half-smile. "Anytime, general."  
~*~

In the mirror, a gruff old solider looked at him with gray hair, pouchy skin, lines all over his face and on his neck, and lines pulling down at the sides of his mouth and around his eyes. His lips seemed thinner and his nose larger. He was old. He frowned at the man in the mirror, and then another face appeared at his shoulder.

Daniel looked forward at their reflection for a moment before he spoke.

"Ain't we a pair," he said softly.

Jack turned to face him, placing a gentle hand on Daniel's cheek, he ran his thumb tenderly across Daniel's soft lips. Jack couldn't imagine Daniel ever aging to the point that he would not be beautiful. Daniel would be forever beautiful.

Jack suddenly felt guilty for tying the man to such a geezer. His hand fell away from Daniel's face as he looked down and away.

"Sorry," he muttered as he pushed past Daniel and out of their tiny bathroom. He wasn't surprised to feel Daniel's hand squeezing his arm, stopping him as he headed for the door of their cabin.

"Hey," Daniel whispered as he turned Jack easily to face him.

Jack grimaced, not wanting to look Daniel in the eye. He didn't want to be the pitiful old man any more than he wanted to be that young bastard he had seen in the mirror. That had to be the epitome of irony. He got what he wanted only to realize how bad it really was.

"Hey," Daniel repeated as his hands went to Jack's face, lifting so that Jack had to look him in the eye. "I really love you," Daniel whispered.

Jack didn't reply. He looked at Daniel, feeling sadness and bone deep weariness that he knew he should have felt long ago. It felt like his age had at long last caught up with him.

"Jack," Daniel whispered in a pleading tone.

Jack pulled away from his tender touch and walked to the small desk. On it sat the small green book of Aeschylus' tragedies. The picture was still there, stuffed between the pages. He removed is slowly, placing the book back on the table, open, face down, at the page the picture marked. Jack turned back to Daniel, offering him the picture.

"This is the guy you love," Jack said gruffly, trying to not let too much emotion into his voice. It wasn't working.

Daniel took the picture from him, crumpling it into a wad in his hand. He tossed it to the side as he came closer to Jack, touching his face again.

"I love you," Daniel said emphatically, a frown creasing his brow in that ever familiar way that Jack adored so much. Daniel's teeth gritted for a second and Jack watched as the color sprang to his cheeks. Daniel was angry.

"Damn it, Jack!" he nearly shouted. "What the fuck do you really want me to do? Are you going to pine about your lost youth now? Are you going to try and blame it on me?"

"No," Jack shook his head, grimacing. "Of course not…"

Daniel didn't let him finish. He began to pace with pent up fury as he spoke. "I spent a life time adapting to being alone, not letting anyone in, not saying the 'L' word. You know why? Every time I said it, it was a death sentence. I loved my parents. I loved my wife…" He stopped for a moment with a mirthless smile as a memory came to him. "I had these foster parents; I know I mentioned this pair once to you. They were the only ones who encouraged my love of books…"

"The ones who got you a library card and a bike with a basket?" Jack asked.

"Yes. The Roberts'." Daniel sniffed and stopped for a moment. "I loved them too. I had to leave when Rachael, Mrs. Roberts, was diagnosed with leukemia. She died two days before the replacement foster family took me."

"Daniel…" Jack reached for him, but Daniel batted his hand away.

"So then I found you and I loved you and I… fought it for all I'm worth… Not just because I worried about what the pentagon would say, or even what you would say. I fought it because I couldn't lose you.

"You've ripped my heart out at times, and I know you had your reasons, and you really didn't mean it, but this time Jack…" He stopped, shaking his head in disbelief. He lifted a finger in warning, grounding out each word with deliberate care. "Don't you ever dare tell me who I love again. Don't you ever fucking dare!"

Then there was silence, and the space between them seemed like an uncrossable canyon with Jack on one side feeling more than a little guilty and ashamed and Daniel on the other side, burning bright with anger. Jack knew that it was time for him to come clean. That was the only way to fix this.

"I love you, Daniel." His voice came out a broken whisper, so unlike himself that he winced to hear it. Then he frowned as he thought about what he had said and why he had said it. He loved Daniel. He didn't want to hurt him, and he was certain as hell that he didn't want to lose him. He thought he had loved fiercely before a long time ago with Sara, but now he understood the nature of his own soul. Back then, in his youth, he hadn't been ready for that fierceness of certainty. He had held back and lost her because of it. He wouldn't hold back from Daniel.

Daniel's finger lowered and his posture softened. Jack looked him in the eye.

"I… don't want you to feel like you have to stay with a miserable old loser."

Daniel shook his head slowly. "I'm not," he responded. "I'm with you, Jack. And sure you're crabby… and a pain. You can be a horse's ass from time to time…"

"Hey, that's General Horse's Ass to you!"

"Yes, sir!" Daniel smiled briefly in response to Jack's joke and then looked down and continued. "But you are never a miserable old loser. If you are, then we both are." Daniel looked him in the eye, walking up closer to him. "Whatever you are, I am, too."

Jack put his arms lightly on Daniel's waist as Daniel rested his hands on Jack's shoulders. They came closer still. Jack tilted his head slightly as he felt Daniel's lips brush his in the softest of kisses. Tender and slow, Daniel's lips paid homage to his mouth, which only earlier Jack had found too thin and creased with fine lines. Soft lips touched his own, sucking his lower lip between them and tasting it with a gentle slip of tongue. Then the kiss was broken.

Daniel whispered, "Come to bed."

Jack hugged him close for a moment, nuzzling against the soft flesh just behind Daniel's ear. He could smell Daniel's sweet scent there and he filled his brain with its reassuring essence. But he said out loud, "So if you are what I am, does that make you Doctor Horse's Ass?"

He felt Daniel shake with mirth, a chuckle pressed against Jack's shoulder. He pulled back from the embrace.

"Jack!"

"What?" Jack shrugged. "It's not so bad in the barnyard."

Daniel giggled some more and Jack leaned in to kiss his smiling mouth. Jack felt the end of a chuckle against his lips as he pulled Daniel closer and deepened the kiss. His tongue entered gently, to sweep delicately across Daniel's palate, tasting him. He then teased Daniel's tongue until they played in joyful passion. Jack could practically taste Daniel's laughter. It was a beautiful thing.

They went to bed together that night. Jack would have liked to have been that young stud who rode Daniel all night long, but he knew what he could and couldn't do in this old body. But Daniel seemed more than satisfied when Jack spread his legs before him, letting Daniel nestle between them, inviting Daniel in.

It was enough for them both and Jack cherished the unbridled passion given to him from Daniel. He watched Daniel's face closely as he lost his grasp on English and began to murmur in Arabic. Jack saw the fathomless love in his eyes. Daniel loved him. He really loved him, but Jack wasn't leaving.

Wherever we go, Danny, we go together… even death. He made the vow silently, praying that he would be able to keep it.  
~*~

Cam's shift ended and he stumbled to bed waking Vala up abruptly as one of his cold feet connected with her shin. Then she was completely awake. She stared into the darkness of their room for only a few minutes, listening to Cam's breath deepen into sleep, then she decided to get up.

She didn't bother to pull on a robe. Everyone in the ship had seen everyone else in his or her skivvies. Why bother. She made her way to the bridge, knowing who was on shift this time.

Jack turned to look at her briefly as she entered; he then looked back out the main view panel, watching the stars pass. There was a thermos on the navi-console and a cup.

"Coffee?" she asked, pointing at the cup.

Jack nodded. She sat down in the copilot chair, putting her feet up on the side of the control panel just before the locked steering column, and reached for the cup. She took a deep sip of the coffee. It was still hot and it was bitter; no cream or sugar like Cam took it. She grimaced at the taste and sat the cup back down.

"You should be in bed," the general said. She looked at him, nodding her affirmative.

"I was."

"What happened?"

"Cam has feet like ice."

"Oh!" Jack said nodding in understanding.

She sat up in her seat, letting her hand fiddle with the side communications console. Cam's music was stored in the computer. She flipped casually through the titles on the small liquid crystal display.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," she said in a contrite murmur.

"What for?" Jack asked looking at her.

"Well," she said with a shrug, tossing her hair in that fashion she had learned to perfect. She felt little uncomfortable. "Making a big deal about you while you were… changed. I probably shouldn't have, and I don't want you to think that I was disappointed when you went back."

Jack chuckled. "You were actually the high point of the whole thing."

"Really?" Vala said feeling a smile brightening her face. She stopped fiddling with the control, stopping on one of Cam's favorite selections. It immediately began to play softly in the background.

"Hell yeah," Jack exclaimed with a small smile. "Who wouldn't want a beautiful woman thinking he was the hottest piece of ass on the whole ship? I know it was only temporary, but it was still… you know, fun!"

Vala laughed. "You are a flatterer."

"And what are you?" Jack looked her over in amusement.

She laughed again getting up from her chair. "Your biggest fan." She wrapped her arms about his shoulders resting her head against his. He patted her arm affectionately. After a while, she could see by the refection of them in the thick glass of the view screen that Jack's smile had faded. Vala's did, too.

They held that way for a little longer as Cam's favorite Sheryl Crow song continued with words that seemed fit the situation pretty well.

"If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad. If it makes you happy; then why the hell are you so sad?"

End


End file.
